


A Light in the Dark

by ParadiseAvenger



Series: Kink Meme Fills [3]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Fearling!Jack, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wind whispered in an archaic language and spoke a single word that was older than the moon, ‘Fearling…’ Jack stared at his clawed hand, stricken. ‘You’ll never escape, Jack,’ Pitch’s voice haunted. ‘I’ve remade you. I’ve made you mine.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. January 29, 1712: Transformation

Kink meme fill for ‘Part Fearling Jack.’

Original prompt: http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/3036.html?thread=6175708#cmt6175708

X X X

_“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”  
—Nelson Mandela_

~January 29, 1712~

It was a clear night with a great round full moon. A slight layer of snow draped across the trees and hills like sugarcoating, sparkling beautifully and banishing shadows. There was a small pond here in the dense woods with a rend at its center that gaped like a wound. The dark water there rippled, shimmered, danced in the moonlight. Then, all at once, it froze completely as if grass had grown over an open grave. For several deep heartbeats, the world was still. It held its breath, it waited, it watched. The moon glowed.

Then, from beneath, the ice cracked and pushed. A young boy, barely fourteen, (1) emerged from the icy depths. Water streamed from his clothes and hair, but froze and fell like frozen diamonds to land on the thick ice. The youth was lifted towards the moon by some invisible string, held there like a beloved child for just a moment, and then lowered gently back to the surface of the small pond. Though the ice was damaged and broken, it mended beneath his bare feet. Spirals of frost swirled out from him, decorating the gloomy winter night.

The youth looked at his pale hands, his narrow feet, his long arms. There were some silvery scars on his knuckles and feet. He felt his face, measuring the set of features and lips, and pushed his hands through his cool white hair. He slipped across the ice, found a shepherd’s crook that meant more than he could remember, and discovered that he was as light and swift as a leaf on the wind. The youth moved through the forest with delight until he came across a small community that mourned a loss he didn’t know. 

He walked among the villagers, calling greetings that went unheard and unanswered. When he knelt to speak to a child, there was a moment that was only blinding cold and shock and fear. The child rushed through the youth as if his body was nothing more than frost and vapor. Gasping, the new spirit reeled through the small parish, but no one could see or hear him. Stricken, he pressed a hand to his chest and left by the light of the watchful moon. For the first time since being pulled from the water, he felt winter’s chill on his skin.

Afterwards, Jack Frost roamed—unseen, unheard, lonely and alone. 

For fifty-six years, time passed in this fashion.

It was a warm April night and Jack knew he should have been somewhere else. It was spring on this continent and his season was no longer welcome, but the small pond was more home to him than anywhere else was. When he was away from it, his heart felt in more pieces than usual. Jack stood on a paper-thin layer of ice at its center, gazing up at the skeletal crescent moon and trying hard to keep a firm grasp on his powers as his emotions climbed raggedly. 

“I don’t understand,” Jack murmured to the pale guardian hanging in the sky. “Why did you put me here?”

The moon remained silent, still and deep, as unruffled as ever.

Jack tightened his grip on the stick he couldn’t bring himself to part with. “Is this… some kind of punishment? To be here when no one can see me?”

The moon had spoken Jack’s name only once so long ago and had never seen fit to answer Jack’s questions since then, but Jack kept talking to it. He could at least pretend the moon was listening, even if the glowing rock never answered.

“Was I a bad person?” Jack continued. “Did you put me here just to be alone, just to suffer? Do I deserve it? I can’t remember… I can’t remember anything!” Jack’s eyes burned and he abruptly wiped his face with the frost-dusted sleeve of his shirt. “Why am I here? Why can’t anyone see me?” 

The moon remained silent, smiling down in a benevolent crescent.

Drawing in a shaking breath, Jack turned away from the crescent moon and made his way carefully off the surface of the small pond. At the edge, he paused and turned to look back at the moon one final time before he followed his season to the other side of the globe. Nothing had changed except the breeze. It blew gently now through the new spring growth, comforting Jack in its silent way. Letting out his breath, Jack turned away and prepared to let the wind spirit him away.

“The Man in the Moon never answers anyone,” came a soft voice with a faint accent that Jack couldn’t identify.

For a moment, Jack just froze. He couldn’t believe that after all these years someone in the middle of nowhere was actually speaking to him. It must be a mistake, Jack tried to convince himself. He must have stumbled across a pair of lovers on a romantic Easter picnic. Yet his heart pounded and his feet turned in the direction of the voice. He hoped, he prayed, that someone would be there—someone who could see him and talk to him.

The clearing was empty of everything except thick cloaking shadows. There was no one, nothing, and Jack remained painfully alone. 

Jack’s heart dropped into his stomach, but his mouth was more hopeful. His voice spoke without his permission and called, “Is someone there?” 

A long silence stretched across the night, seeking out the little cracks in Jack’s heart and digging in. Fear followed, slipping into the empty spaces of his chest. What if no one ever saw him or spoke to him? What if he stayed alone like this forever? What if he really was a bad person and this was well-deserved punishment?

“What a nice question,” the strange voice said again just as Jack was about to give up. As if with the searching breeze, the shadows moved and danced. 

Jack picked one out and turned to watch it as it flashed against the backdrop of the burgeoning forest and the thick grass. It almost looked like a person, but he couldn’t be sure. “Will you come out, please?” he asked with a little more hope in his heart.

“Why should I?” the shadow asked. “It isn’t as if anyone like you is ever happy to see me.”

Jack wet his lips. “Please,” he said softly. “You can come out. I promise I won’t—”

“Are you alone?” the shadow interrupted. 

Jack’s throat closed and his heart lurched like the remains of something crushed bloodless beneath the wheels of a horse-drawn wagon. “Yes,” he forced himself to admit. His eyes burned and his throat was frozen around the jagged words. “I’m alone.”

The shadow hummed pensively. “Why is that?” it asked.

“I don’t know,” Jack said softly. He swiped at his eyes and tried to swallow the knot that had built up in his throat to no avail. His voice cracked when he continued, “I’ve been alone for fifty-six years. The moon told me that I—”

The shadow chuckled. “Ah, the Man in the Moon… He certainly lacks any sort of compassion.”

“What?” Jack whispered and his eyes darted to the moon as if it would decide to answer him now.

“He’ll never answer you,” the shadow said. “No matter how many times you ask or how much you beg. Even if you cry your eyes out, he won’t answer you.”

Jack’s breath rattled in his chest, but he fought back the burn of tears that filled his throat. Fear built up in his chest like blood welling from a wound. If the moon had no compassion, did that mean he had done this to Jack as punishment? He turned back to the shadow, fighting away the dark thoughts that threatened to consume him. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Someone like you should already know my name,” the shadow said.

“Well,” Jack said with false bravado. “I don’t, so tell me who you are.”

The shadows swirled, melted, and then opened. A tall imposing figure wreathed in darkness stepped forth, visible only for his bright metallic eyes. He folded away from the moonlight uncannily, keeping himself mostly hidden from Jack save for the small instances where the frost-spirit felt this man wanted Jack to see him.

“Who are you?” Jack breathed out, gripping his staff tightly.

“You may call me Pitch Black,” the man said silkily and tilted his head to look at Jack with bright silvery eyes. “And who are you?”

Jack wet his lips and said softly, “Jack. Jack Frost.”

“Jack,” the shadowy figure repeated and tasted the name on his lips with obvious delight. “So, the Man in the Moon left you alone all these years. What a cruel thing to do.”

“I-I guess,” Jack lied. It had been horrible to be alone, unseen, untouched—punished?

Pitch moved from within the shelter of his shadows and stepped out completely to reveal himself. Jack sucked in a sharp breath and took a step back, craning his head to look up into the face of this strange man. Pitch smiled down at Jack, revealing several rows of uneven teeth.

“Have you been lonely all these years, Jack?” Pitch asked with tenderness. 

Jack’s hands convulsed on his staff, knuckles whitening and frost fanning down the length of the crook. “Yeah,” he whispered because it suddenly felt impossible to lie or look away from the bright gaze of this man. His heart was pounding like a drum, hammering against the cage of his ribs.

“Have you longed for a friend to talk to?” Pitch’s gaze glittered like the eyes of a greedy raven. He stepped closer to Jack and the frost child smelled deep earth and a certain staleness. “Have you wished that someone would see you?”

“Yes,” Jack admitted. His neck ached from looking up into Pitch’s eyes and the larger man had caged him in with his shadowy body. Jack felt that he should run—some primal instinct was wailing that it wasn’t safe to be this close—but he couldn’t move. He remained, staring up, captivated. “Yes,” he whispered again. “So much…” 

Pitch’s hand moved like a dark bird fluttering from a branch. “Have you long for someone to… touch you?”

Even as Jack’s mind screamed for him to flee, his heart shattered with the phantom memory of contact. He wanted to be touched, to feel someone else’s skin, to be recognized as someone alive and real— even if it meant some part of him would break. He leaned into Pitch’s long fingers and they slid along his jaw smoothly. Jack gasped raggedly at the warm touch and Pitch’s mouth split into a jack-o-lantern smile.

“Oh, Jack,” Pitch murmured.

Jack’s lashes fluttered and he closed his blue eyes. He melted into the caress as Pitch’s hand slid around to cradle the back of his head and glide through his snowy tresses. Then, the hand circled back and held Jack’s face with gentleness that should have been reserved for a delicate flower. The pad of his thumb scraped along Jack’s cheekbone, gathering the layer of frost that had spread there. 

“Would you like to come with me, Jack?” Pitch asked softly.

A half-heard protest screamed through Jack’s mind, barreling like a wagon that had reeled off the road and crashed through trees, but it was silent as it crumbled and rotted away. Jack nodded and stepped closer so that he could feel Pitch’s warm body a hair’s breadth from the front of his own. He sighed in bliss, curling into the touch and the voice.

“I’ll make you into me,” Pitch whispered distantly. “I’ll make you one with me.”

A thread of icy fear ran down Jack’s spine and wove through his chest, squeezing his heart until he could no longer breathe. He became aware that Pitch’s grasp on his face was hard and tight, his blunt nails raking through the layer of frost that covered his sensitive skin. Jack tried to pull away but couldn’t. He was too new and young to combat this older stronger spirit. 

“I’ll make you my dark prince,” Pitch murmured. “You can rule at my side—be mine. I’ll make you one.”

Jack’s eyes snapped open and met with those metallic orbs in a clash that was like dishes breaking and houses burning. Jack tried to pull away again, but Pitch merely tightened his grip on Jack’s face. His nails raked sharply against Jack’s skin, tearing through ice and flesh alike. Hot blood ran down Jack’s cheek and neck. 

“Let me go!” Jack protested as he struggled to free himself. Pitch’s touch was scalding like a brand, burning, searing into Jack’s cold skin. He shoved against Pitch’s firm chest, his hands landing in weak blows and spreading white frost across the dark material of his overcoat. “Let go!”

Pitch’s lips opened in a sneer that was all jagged teeth. “I’ll make you into me, Jack,” he hissed. “I’ll make you mine.”

A tendril of darkness moved in the corner of Jack’s vision, flickering there like a spider or a snake. Terror rose in Jack’s chest, pulsing with the rataplan of his heartbeat. Suddenly, he knew something horrible was going to happen. He had to get away—had to escape—had to run!

“Let go!” Jack screamed, thrashing in Pitch’s grasp. He lashed out with his staff, but Pitch grabbed it and turned it away effortlessly with one hand. “Please!” Jack’s eyes widened in shock as he tried to wrench the staff free, but Pitch’s grip remained tight on his weapon and his face. “Let me go!”

Pitch chuckled and his eyes were big and bright, somehow soaking up all the light and strength Jack had. The strand of darkness wove between them in some cryptic pattern. Exhausted, Jack stilled, hypnotized by the movement of the single dark strand. It was fluid, glittering and moving like black water. It called to him, beckoned with an invisible hand, promising everything and nothing all at once. Fear welled cold in Jack’s chest, but it was a distant ache.

“Open your mouth, Jack, and let me inside you,” Pitch crooned. He stroked Jack’s injured face with hot fingertips and smeared the bright blood along Jack’s pale cold skin. “And then, I’ll be with you. You’ll never be alone again.”

“Never?” Jack breathed out, gaze moving from the single thread of stunning darkness to Pitch’s bright eyes. “You’ll stay with me?”

Pitch nodded and ran his thumb over the swell of Jack’s lower lip. Unbidden, Jack’s mouth slipped open and the wisp of darkness wove into him. He felt it inside, twisting and curling with otherworldly purpose. It was a little searing place of warmth in his throat, sliding deeper and deeper into his body. His pounding heartbeat began to slow. Painful calm filled his cracked chest and smoothed over the loneliness of fifty-six long years like a balm. 

It would be nice to always have someone to talk to… 

He would never have to be alone again…

Abruptly, a tree branch slammed into Jack from behind. It broke hard against Jack’s thin body and tore a cry from his lips. Pitch’s bright eyes widened as his grasp on Jack’s jaw was broken and the slender young spirit was swept away like a stray leaf. It took Jack a moment to recognize the familiar arms of the wind, cradling him and carrying him away from the shadowy figure that had nearly devoured him. His throat and chest seared with agony. A panicked wave of ice and frost washed out from Jack’s body, stinging with the force of the wind.

Jack gasped and coughed raggedly, blinded within his own personal snowstorm. Deep inside his chest, the filament of darkness burned like a scorching coal. The pain was excruciating and his fingers curled in the fabric over his chest. A whimper pried from between his clenched teeth and he lost his grasp on the wind. He dropped several feet and landed hard on the now-frozen ground. Drifts of snow spread beneath his feet and ice raced across the surface of the small pond nearby. 

The wind howled in concern and whipped snowflakes into the air as it tried to lift Jack away again.

“Jack!” Pitch shouted amidst the swirling darkness. “You won’t escape from me, Jack!”

Startled by Pitch’s voice, Jack leaped into the sky with his heart in his throat and the wind caught him immediately. Together, they sped through the inky night. The moon only aided all the darkness, being a thin sliver of crescent that provided hardly any light. 

Fear gripped Jack in a vice and crushed all the air from his burning lungs. He gripped his staff and clung to the wind desperately. He could feel frost and snow spreading in his wake, but couldn’t reel in his powers through his panic. His emotions roiled, fear and pain raging in his blood and soul. He clutched his chest, breathing rasping between his teeth.

Suddenly, the shadows melted, shimmered, and opened like the petals of a flower. Pitch Black loomed out of the tear in the fabric of the world, his teeth and eyes shining hideously. “You’ll never escape me, Jack,” he sneered.

“Get away!” Jack lashed out with his staff. Crystals of spearing ice sailed past Pitch’s head and Jack heard branches breaking as the icy daggers struck them.

Realizing that Jack might be just a little dangerous in this state, Pitch grabbed his crooked staff and tried to wrest it from Jack’s white-knuckled grip. Jack fought back violently with all the panicked strength of a cornered animal. He lost his control on the wind and plummeted through the dark night like a stone, dragging Pitch down with him. The wind howled urgently as it raced to catch Jack, spinning shards of ice into deadly spires. For a moment, Pitch nearly succeeded in taking the staff, but desperation and fear lent strength to the young spirit.

“No!” Jack shouted. “No!”

A wave of blinding frost fanned from the staff and from Jack. Pitch was there one moment and then he was gone like a nightmare banished by the light of dawn. Whiteness spread wildly, sweeping over the trees and bowing them with the force of the power. The wind gusted in, buoyed Jack up, and carried him away too quickly for the shadows to follow. Jack clung to the breeze, to his staff, to his chest. His breath came raggedly, hot and painful. Something inside him was being torn apart, dissolving, breaking into pieces.

“You can’t escape the fear, Jack!” Pitch shouted at his back. His voice echoed through the howling night, chasing Jack with unearthly intent. “You’ll never escape!” 

But, just then, he did—somehow. He fled into the night, shadows grasping at his heels, but after a little while, even Pitch’s voice faded.

The wind carried Jack to the North Pole and settled him down in a deep powdery snow bank that cradled Jack like a mother would have. Overhead, the Aurora Borealis danced beautifully, but Jack couldn’t find the willpower to open his eyes. He curled in the snowdrift, trembling, shaking, shattering. His body was damaged somewhere he couldn’t lay his hands on. He was helpless to fight the darkness as it came over him like a flood of black water. Pitch Black’s shadow was inside him, eating him from the inside out like a cancer.

“No, please,” he moaned weakly. “No… stop…”

He could feel the little tendril of darkness as it worked its way to his heart, burrowing, ripping, shredding. He wrapped both arms around his middle and squeezed tightly as if he could keep himself together through physical strength alone. Fear sank in, slid deep, until it was rooted there around Jack’s heart like a crown of thorns. Jack gasped, breath wheezing between his clenched teeth. The pain was overwhelming, swallowing him into the deep darkness. There would be no return from that, Jack realized as he stared into the abyss.

“I don’t want it,” he choked out desperately. “Stop!”

Beneath his hands, frost fanned across his chest and he felt it weave deep into his body and soul. The tendril of nightmarish darkness stopped, grinding to a halt like a stick dragging against stone. The searing heat began to diminish and Jack could finally draw in a deep breath. As he breathed in the icy air, the agony inside continued to lessen until it was nothing more than a sharp little shard. It cut only if he moved. Then, after a moment, the pain subsided almost completely. He could still feel it, lurking inside him like a scar.

He remained collapsed in the snow, panting, and stared up at the crescent moon. The wind whispered all around him, curiously prodding against Jack’s sides and ruffling his hair. He wanted to assure it that he was all right, but the thought of moving was too much at the moment. He remained still, focusing on breathing in the cold night air until his heart stopped pounding.

A time later, when the Aurora had faded and dawn began to lighten the horizon, Jack sat up slowly. His chest throbbed and his heart beat painfully against his bones, but it was nothing compared to the searing agony that Pitch’s darkness had inflicted inside him earlier. Jack crawled slowly to his feet and leaned on his staff for support. His feet sank through the snow and the wind lifted him gently into the lightening sky. They needed to move on before Phil the Yeti or Nicholas St. North found them prowling outside his workshop. 

It was slow going as the wind and Jack Frost made their way to a distant place where winter was in full season. Jack landed gently on a large lake that had been scraped and polished for ice-skating. He walked across it slowly, making certain that the ice was solid for any skaters that ventured out into the frigid weather. Jack’s newness intertwined with Pitch’s violent attack and Jack’s wild emotions had covered much of the globe in an out-of-season blizzard. 

Distantly, Jack realized that it was Easter morning. (2)

Breathless, Jack paused on the ice and absently rubbed his foot through some snow. There was dirt on his skin, clinging there like a shadow. Jack scrubbed for several moments before his skin began to ache from the friction and he realized that the smudge was not fading. It remained, just as dark and ugly against his white skin as it had been when he first noticed it. Jack lifted his bare foot closer and looked at it, rubbing his thumb over the dark skin. Was it a bruise? But it didn’t hurt and he couldn’t remember getting hit on the foot. 

Startled, Jack realized there was a similar mark on his wrist that spread up beneath the sleeve of his shirt and disappeared beyond where he could pull it up. Hastily, Jack put down his staff and pulled his shirt off completely. He examined his bared skin in shock and horror. All over his chest were tendrils of blackness that spread from a single point near his heart. The threads shifted and moved, alive, with his body. Stricken, Jack pressed his hands over his skin and tried to focus on breathing. 

He realized the fingernails of his right hand were longer and sharper than he remembered and all attempts to bite them shorter failed. His teeth felt wrong inside his mouth. He traced his tongue along his teeth and tasted blood. Sharp, he realized with a jolt, his teeth were sharp. Sickened, Jack grabbed his shirt and his staff and flew into the town in search of something reflective. He found a prominent china shop with a wide glass window and stood before it, studying himself.

An unfamiliar face stared back at him. 

Jack lifted trembling hands to touch his distorted features. Only one blue eye gazed back at him, the other was bright gold that gleamed with unnatural light. One side of his mouth was pulled up into a snarl he hadn’t realized he was making, revealing the sharp teeth that had replaced his perfect blunt ones. His snow-white hair was threaded with inky-darkness above his yellow eyes, similar to the ruin that crawled all over his pale skin. The nails of his right hand were practically claws and he realized that his toes were just the same. 

A terrible horrified whine escaped his lips as he traced his unfamiliar warped body frantically. 

Just then, the sun peeked up over the edge of the horizon and a band of spring sunlight fell across Jack’s naked back. He cried out in surprise and pain, reeling away from the light urgently. He ducked into a nearby alleyway and hunkered there with his arms wrapped around his legs tightly.

“This is a nightmare,” he told himself, rocking softly on the balls of his feet. “Any minute now, I’ll wake up and everything will be normal.”

‘You’ll never escape the fear,’ Pitch’s voice taunted. ‘You’ll be mine forever.’

“No,” Jack insisted quietly. “No, it’s all a nightmare. Just wake up, wake up.” He dug his fingers through his hair and pulled gently, he scraped his scalp with his newfound claws, and he held his breath. Each time he opened his eyes, the horrifying changes remained and the sunlight was a little bit closer. 

Irrational fear gripped Jack’s heart as he watched the sunlight spread down the mouth of the alleyway. His head was suddenly filled with legends of creatures that drank blood and burst into flames in the sunlight. He had never believed those tales before, but now he wasn’t so sure. Jack pulled his shirt back on and tied his cloak over his head. He waited, hands and feet tucked beneath his clothing, to see what would happen when the sunlight touched him again. Would this be the end of him? Had he survived an attack by the Nightmare King only to be killed by sunlight?

Slowly, the light fell across his clothes and pain did not follow. Jack let out a tremulous breath and rose to his feet to stand cautiously in the remaining shadows. He leaned against the wall and tried to breathe deeply. Frost spread beneath his feet, curling in beautiful fronds, and Jack was relieved to see that his powers remained the same even if he had been changed beyond recognition. Again, he looked down at his clawed feet, but they hadn’t magically reverted to normal.

“What is this?” Jack whispered as he gently ran his fingers over the planes of his unfamiliar new face. His lips were still pulled into a snarl and he gingerly tried to relax the terrible expression. “What happened to me?”

The wind whispered in an archaic language and spoke a single word that was older than the moon, ‘Fearling…’ 

Though it couldn’t be translated, Jack felt the meaning behind the single word in the very core of his agonized soul—someone who had been devoured and transformed by fear and darkness. The word called to the single tendril lurking in his chest and he pressed hand over it, stilling it with a wave of frost. 

“Is that what I am now?” Jack breathed out and stared down at his glittering frost-dusted hands. Even his veins looked darker, no longer bluish with winter and cold blood, but inky with the darkness that spread out from his chest. He rubbed his aching golden eye carefully, confused by the flickering images that moved through his vision. “What should I do? What can I do?”

The wind whispered, breathing along his cheeks comfortingly. 

‘You’ll never escape, Jack,’ Pitch’s voice continued. ‘I’ve remade you. I’ve made you mine.’

Jack forced those thoughts away through sheer willpower and crept slowly through the sunlight to an open market that was closed because of the blizzard. There, he managed to steal a long cloak of dark material with a deep hood. He pulled it on to shelter his sensitive skin from the sunlight and tried to take flight. The wind was gentle with him, but the cloak fluttered open and painful sunlight slanted across Jack’s bare feet, hands, and face. With a soft cry, he landed back on the ground and wrapped himself tightly in the cloak.

Uncertain of what to do now, Jack walked slowly through the weather-beaten town with his eyes focused on the ground. Occasionally, he looked at his hands and the hideous claws remained so he stopped looking. Leaning on his staff and the wind for support, Jack walked for what felt like a small eternity, sinking in the snow.

Suddenly, a ripple of awareness moved through Jack’s body like an electrical current. It was power, he felt that, but it was nothing like the wintry magic that flowed in his veins. This felt darker, deeper, and sharper. It felt like… fear… yet, it didn’t belong to Jack. It poured into him from some outside source, manipulated by the current of his body somehow.

Sucking in a tremulous breath, Jack tried to put the feeling out of his mind, but it remained flickering at the back of his consciousness like a wound. He felt it, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, getting stronger and stronger until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Jack turned away from the small town and made his way through the dense woods nearby where the sensation felt stronger. The feeling tugged at him, called and beckoned like a phantom.

Wetting his lips nervously, Jack made his way through the woods with the feeling of fear growing stronger inside his chest. Nausea clawed at him. The feeling was too much, too strange, too potent. Jack had never felt so much fear, but it was coming to him through some sort of filter. His skin prickled, oversensitive and raw. 

Finally, just when the feeling was too much to take, Jack came across a small group of children. They must have been looking for Easter eggs in the woods against their parents’ wishes, but something had gone horribly wrong. A snow-laden branch had fallen and pinned one of the children beneath it. Though the thick snow prevented the child from being crushed, he was in danger of being frozen to death. The three other children were trying desperately to lift the branch from their friend, but their fear was rising wildly as each attempt failed. 

“Just hang on,” one of the girls whispered as tears welled in her eyes. “I’ll go get my dad and he’ll—”

“He’ll never make it in time,” one of the older boys said sharply. “We have to get the branch off him now or he’ll freeze to death.”

The pinned child whimpered, tears rolling down his pale cheeks. “Help me!” he pleaded. “I’m scared!”

Another wave of terror washed through Jack. This one was so powerful and sickening that it nearly drove Jack to his knees. He doubled over, one hand pressed to his chest as the tendril of darkness shifted with interest. He sucked in a deep cold breath and pressed his hand to his chest tightly.

“Stay awake,” one of the children said fiercely to his friend. “Don’t go to sleep.”

The trapped child struggled with renewed terror, but he was crushed beneath the branch and the weight of the snow. “Get me out!” he shrieked. “Help me!”

Pulling together all that was left of his strength, Jack approached the children, wedged his staff beneath the fallen branch, and heaved with all his might. The branch quivered and then lifted a fraction of an inch, but it wasn’t enough. Jack was too weak from his encounter with Pitch. 

He took a deep breath and reached inside himself for just a little more. A wave of fluffy snow spread beneath his feet, lifting the branch at an angle that gave the child just enough room to escape. His friends quickly grabbed his hands and pulled him free without ever seeing the invisible snow spirit that had helped them. Relieved, the children collapsed together in a heap and Jack slid to his knees.

It was so bright and the sunlight reflected off the snow. Blinded and aching, Jack pulled his hood down over his face. The light seared his skin, sending spikes of pain through his body until he pulled the cloak shut over his exposed flesh. He sat in the snow with the children for a few moments, breathing hard, as the overwhelming feeling of fear abated. 

Then, Jack became aware of something else flickering on the edge of his consciousness. It didn’t feel like the children’s fear, but it was somehow similar. It darted through Jack’s mind, danced on the periphery, and slipped away only to return a moment later. Jack jerked his head up and saw a flash of familiar glittering blackness. Searing pain rose up inside his chest, coupled with overwhelming terror. 

It was Pitch Black! 

It was one of Pitch’s Nightmares!

With a sharp cry, Jack leaped to his feet and swept his staff wildly. A wave of snow and ice echoed the motion and slammed into the Nightmare that was hiding behind a tree. The creature froze solid with a startled shriek. Jack heard the children scream and start to run, crashing through the dense woods, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the Nightmare. He could feel others, lurking and watching, waiting to take him.

Uncaring for the burn of the sunlight, Jack called the wind and swept himself into the sky. He put as much space as possible between himself and Pitch’s Nightmares, but everywhere he went he could still feel the shadows and fears. His chest throbbed, his skin prickled, and everything crawled.

“I’ve been connected to him,” Jack whispered as he looked at his clawed right hand and blackened skin. 

The wind whispered comfortingly through his hair. 

Jack swallowed nervously, pressed a hand to his face, and found that the hideous sneer that twisted his lips had relaxed. His expression was soft and almost normal. “I can feel everyone’s fear and his shadows. We’re connected now,” he murmured. “He really did make me into him.”

Without words, the wind swirled around Jack so that the cloak fell closed over his bare skin. Jack sighed in bliss as the pain from the sunlight faded.

“I have to make sure he never finds me. I can’t give him a chance to turn me into one of his… Fearlings… not the rest of the way. Maybe I can learn to use this power, if I’m careful,” Jack continued softly. “I don’t want him to be able to do this to anyone else.”

The wind carried him gently over the endless sea, listening.

“Do you think this means… I have to hide from children?” Jack whispered as he gingerly touched the dark claws of his right hand and traced his tongue along his sharp teeth. “But they don’t see me anyway so… does it matter what I look like if I’m invisible?”

Jack glanced up at the sky, but the moon had disappeared for the bright day. Had the moon known what was going to happen to Jack? Was that why he had made the boy invisible to children? Had it been an act of mercy rather than punishment? 

The wind murmured, speaking in its language that Jack could barely understand. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Jack said with a small smile as he drifted over the ocean with the wind. He flexed his blackened hands. “So long as I can still have fun, I guess it doesn’t matter what I look like. Now, I can throw a wrench into that nasty Boogeyman’s plans whenever I feel them.”

Comforted by those thoughts, Jack Frost took a deep cold breath and drifted through the next two-hundred-and-forty-four years. The ball of darkness living in his chest was hard to adjust to, but he learned and he managed. 

He found that his connection didn’t allow him to sleep without being plagued by horrific nightmares, but he didn’t need to sleep much. He was busy most of the night and day anyway and napped only occasionally. He used his unfortunate connection to the fullest. With his one golden eye, he could see traces of black nightmare-sand and used it to track the creatures through areas where children gathered. With his ability to sense fear, he was able to find frightened children and rescue or help them. 

Though his sensitivity to light decreased with time, his skin remained stained with ribbons and blotches of darkness. Ashamed, Jack kept himself covered with thick layers of clothing in case he happened across another spirit. Only when he was certain he was alone did he allow himself to lower his hood or cast off his cloak. Even though he was a monster, he didn’t let it break him. He still had free will and a strong sense of self. He still had fun, he still spent hours crafting each individual snowflake with care, and he still flew with the wind. He was still the same inside, even if his body had been damaged by Pitch’s attack that Easter in 1768. 

Jack was as happy as he could have been under the circumstances. His invisibility was a blessing that allowed him to continue to play with children. He easily avoided other spirits since they had no interest in him and rarely sought him out anyway. He did everything he could to keep fear at bay, protect the children of the world from Nightmares, and prevent Pitch Black from ever creating another Fearling. Jack Frost would never know how much good he did until April 2012 when everything changed.

X X X

(1) Anytime I talk about Jack’s age, I like to include this awesome link. Check it out! http://ickaimp.tumblr.com/post/37532061848/jacks-tombstone-sources-or-it-didnt-happen

(2) I know many fans are insisting that the Blizzard of ’68 happened in 1968, but I have no idea where that information sprung from. I can’t find anything substantial other than the fact that there actually was a real blizzard on Easter in 1968, but that isn’t really related to the movie… So, I’m assigning this blizzard to 1768 for the sake of my plot.

Questions, comments, concerns?

**Review!**


	2. March 30, 2012: Part I

I am having serious computer issues. My damn laptop has been trying to update itself for two weeks and it can’t. It gets the stupidest errors and nothing I do is fixing it. It has to go to the computer doctor…

X X X

~March 30, 2012~

Jack Frost felt the fear change in the world, growing stronger and thicker and deeper. He felt the shadows increase, lurking closer and in greater numbers than usual. When he managed to sleep, his nightmares were worse. He could hear Pitch Black’s laughter in his head, cackling with delight and domination. Jack’s skin prickled constantly, his stomach knotted with fear-sense, and his vision was webbed with traces of nightmare-sand. 

The Sandman had just come through Burgess and the children were comforted by wonderful dreams. Standing alone atop a telephone pole, Jack let himself relax for the first time in months. Sandy was the only spirit who could possibly combat Pitch in terms of power. The fear slowly abated, replaced with wonder and hope and sweetness. Jack walked along the power lines, looking at the golden sand with his yellow eye. Little specks of darkness moved within the gold.

Jack followed the tide of sweet dreams for a little while, relaxing in the absence of fear. Even the tendril of blackness that lived in his chest was quiet and still. The night was peaceful and quiet. It came as a complete shock to Jack when a large hand clamped down on the hood of his cloak and yanked it over his face. Blinded, Jack lashed out wildly, spreading snow and frost in a great arc. 

How had Pitch Black managed to catch him? Jack had gotten so good as sensing fear and shadows. 

Snarled inside his tangled cloak, Jack was stuffed into a sack and then he was falling. The world rushed past. He struck hard ground and all the air was knocked from his lungs. Desperately, Jack fought his way free of the sack and sucked in a lungful of fresh air. He still couldn’t feel any shadows even if there were wisps of fear in the air. Jack blinked in the bright light and squinted at the wide-eyed faces that stared down at him.

Were those… elves?

“Hey, Jack Frost,” came a thickly accented Russian voice. “Welcome!”

With a jolt of horror, Jack jerked his hood up over his face and leaped from the sack. The level of fear remained low and limited so the other spirits must not have seen Jack’s golden eye, sharp teeth, or blackened skin. He held his staff tightly and glared at the spirits that dared catch him unaware and kidnap him. For a moment, he couldn’t believe it. Nicholas St. North, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, and the Easter Bunny all stared back at him with varying states of surprise and eagerness. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jack muttered. 

“I hope the yetis treated you well,” North said with a jolly laugh. 

“Oh yeah,” Jack said sarcastically. “I love being stuffed in a sack and tossed through a magic portal.”

“Oh, good. That was my idea,” North said cheerfully.

Jack stared at him for a moment and then shook his head. He wasn’t going to try to understand Santa Claus. Maybe he’d had a little too much eggnog or something. “So, does anyone want to tell me why I’m here?” he asked, slinging his staff against his shoulder and holding it gingerly with his good hand. 

Sandy quickly flew closer and began to show off an array of symbols that flashed by too quickly for Jack to even begin to understand. 

Jack took a few stumbling steps away from the little golden man. Even though it had been more than two hundred years since Pitch had infected him, he had successfully managed to avoid anything other than brief contact, like when he occasionally passed Sandman or Tooth’s mini-fairies in the sky. Now, he was suddenly terrified that these spirits would discover his secret. After all, his toenails were curved into dark claws and he had never been able to wear shoes over them. All they had to do was look down and—

“Thanks, little man,” Jack said quickly. He took a few more steps back and swept his cloak down over his feet to hide them. “But that’s not really helping.”

“I tell you why you are here,” North put in loudly, “because you have been chosen to become Guardian!” 

With an abruptness that belonged in one of the movies Jack often spied through children’s windows, the elves all produced instruments and trumpeted obnoxiously loud fanfare. A pair of Tooth’s fairies fluttered towards him with a necklace of shining snowflakes. Jack lifted his hand before they got close enough to see his face, warding them off. He stumbled backwards into a yeti who quickly swathed him in a furry embrace before settling him steadily on his feet. 

Jack whirled away from the yeti, right into another pair who were twirling batons of fire. Jack backed away from them, clenched his claw-free left hand in the material of his cloak, and pulled it close against his body. If it caught fire, it was all over. A pair of elves approached, bearing jingling powder-blue shoes, and Jack kept his cloak over his traitorous feet. The fanfare and raucous parade-style movement continued with Jack caught in the middle of it all, unable to escape.

One of the yetis brought North a thick gold-plated book embossed with a ‘G’ and the big Russian opened it to a pre-marked page. Jack had a sudden feeling that if he didn’t stop this now, he was going to be dragged along like flotsam caught in the tide. He lifted his staff and slammed it down in the middle of the floor, sending out a wave of slippery frost and blistering wind that pushed the elves backwards and snuffed out the flames of the batons the yetis carried.

The trumpets collapsed in a terrible cacophony and then silence reigned. 

“Excuse me,” Jack snapped. “What makes you think I want to be a Guardian?”

For a moment, the four spirits, several yetis, and innumerable elves just stared at him. 

Then, North laughed uproariously. “Of course you do,” he exclaimed with a wave of his big hand. “Music!” 

“No music!” Jack repeated, lifting his staff threateningly.

One of the elves threw down his trumpet, shoved through his friends, and stormed away.

“This is all very flattering,” Jack continued, “but you don’t want me. You’re all—” here, the frost child hesitated. He didn’t know these spirits aside from passing stories and gossip and he wasn’t in the habit of judging people. “—hard work and deadlines,” Jack said finally. “And I’m—” he hesitated again as he felt the tendril of darkness shift inside his heart “—snowballs and fun times,” he said because he had rumors and tales of his own. Everyone knew Jack Frost was a trickster and wild child. Surely, they would believe this. “I’m not a Guardian,” Jack finished.

With a disdainful chuckle, Bunny put in, “That’s exactly what I said.”

Even though Jack had already admitted he wasn’t, the words still stung. 

North slid Bunny a glare but didn’t get a chance to speak. Tooth flew towards Jack and put her hand on his shoulder lightly. Jack quickly pulled free of her grasp, tugging his cloak tighter self-consciously. 

“Jack,” Tooth said gently and without comment on how he shied away. She gestured to the massive globe that towered over them, glowing with hundreds of thousands of little lights. “I don’t think you understand what it is we do. Each of those lights is a child.”

“A child who believes,” North added with something like reverence in his voice. “Good or bad, naughty or nice, we protect them.”

Jack felt the fear in the room spike and his mouth went dry. “Protect them from what?” he asked.

North’s big shoulders tightened and Tooth’s wings drooped. Her many little fairies chirped softly in a language Jack didn’t understand. Bunny turned away, refusing to admit that there was a problem even though Jack felt the most fear coming from the Easter Bunny. It was Sandy who gestured, forming his golden sand into the façade of a man Jack would never forget. The darkness in Jack’s chest fluttered with the thought, tugging painfully at his core, and Jack pressed his hand over his chest firmly. 

“The Boogeyman,” North said finally as if Jack didn’t already know.

“Pitch Black,” Jack breathed out.

“When Pitch threatens them, he threatens us,” North said ardently. 

Jack stared at the sparkling globe as if it would reveal the location of his greatest enemy. The dark thread of nightmares in his chest, his connection to Pitch Black and his Fearlings, throbbed. Jack turned sharply away, clenching his cloak closed tightly. “All the more reason for you to pick someone more qualified,” he said icily.

“Pick?” North said incredulously. “You think we pick?”

Jack paused, his heart pounding. “Don’t you?”

“No,” North said with conviction. “You were chosen, like we were all chosen, by Man in Moon.”

Jack froze in shock and lifted his head to stare out the large skylight that created a dome over the globe. The moon hung out there among the northern lights, glowing benevolently and smiling down on them. Jack couldn’t believe it. The Man in the Moon had to know what he was, what was part of him, what he struggled with night in and night out, and yet he had chosen Jack of all spirits to be a Guardian. It almost didn’t seem possible.

“Last night, Jack,” Tooth said gently, “He chose you.”

“Maybe,” Bunny said sourly.

North began speaking, prattling on about destiny and tacks of brass and specialness and Centers and wonder, but Jack ignored him.

Jack nibbled gingerly on his knuckle, his mind whirling with thoughts and memories. The last time he had faced Pitch, he had been so young and new and just learning to control his powers. He was much older and stronger now and he had learned to use the dark link he shared with the Boogeyman, but Pitch could have grown in power as well. If Jack slipped up for just a moment, he knew the shard of darkness in his chest would reach his core and devour him. He would turn into a Fearling and there was no coming back from that abyss. 

Jack couldn’t allow Pitch to have any advantage over him. In fact, he needed to have an advantage over Pitch so he could be certain he wouldn’t be taken unawares and shattered by the darkness and fear. Right now, it seemed like the best way to do that was to join the Guardians. North looked strong, Tooth was so quick, Bunny had to have something other than colored eggs in his arsenal, and Jack already knew Sandy could hold his own against Pitch Black. Hopefully, they could watch his back.

But every second he was with the Guardians, he would be risking his secret. What would they do if they learned about his clawed hand and feet, his stained skin, his one golden eye? What would they say if they learned he was intimately connected to the darkness, the Nightmares, the fears? He worried his knuckle, sharp teeth threatening to break the skin as he weighed his options. 

It didn’t take long since he didn’t have many. 

Jack became aware of the fear rising, shifting, churning into something wild and dangerous. Though Jack didn’t sense the fear of children, there were just too many Nightmares gathering in one area, swarming like insects. Jack knew something was wrong and he acted quickly. 

“Okay,” Jack said abruptly, interrupting North mid-spiel. “I’ll come with you guys, but I’m not signing up to be a Guardian. I’ll only help you take down Pitch Black.”

“Music!” North shouted.

“No!” Jack protested. “We don’t have time for music.”

It was then that a violent invisible blow wracked Tooth and her mini-fairies. She fell to her knees, crying out sharply. “My fairies, my palace,” she yelped. “Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong!” 

Then, in a whirl of colored feathers, she was gone out the nearest window. She disappeared too fast for Jack to follow, but North had a plan. He grabbed Jack by the back of his heavy cloak and dragged him down the hallway, shouting in Russian. Jack caught only one word, ‘Sleigh.’ There was no time to take in the upgraded ride or make fun of Bunny’s fear of heights which spiked through Jack’s senses like a thorn. The next thing he knew, they were in the air and the portal opened. 

Jack caught his breath on the other side, crippled by the overwhelming fear and the density of Nightmares here. He took in the scene quickly, scanning for Pitch, but he didn’t see him among the Nightmare steeds. There was too much going on to tell if he could sense him just yet. 

Relieved and angry, Jack turned his attention back to the countless Nightmares. They charged through the sky, mouths gaping open, devouring Tooth’s tiny fairies. Jack didn’t think through the tiny threads of fear that clouded his mind. He just acted. He leaped into the fray, his cloak flapping, and snatched one tiny blue-green fairy from the jaws of a Nightmare. He landed back on North’s sleigh and looked down at the little creature cupped in his hands. 

“Are you okay?” he asked the tiny fairy.

She opened her eyes slowly, peering up through the claws of his right hand with concern. Jack almost dropped her in his haste to hide within his cloak, but she didn’t say anything. She just nodded, clearly in shock and still terrified. Jack couldn’t blame her and passed the tiny fairy over to Sandy with his good hand. He bounded to stand at the front of the sleigh with North, watching with interest as the big Russian cut a path to the center of the Tooth Palace. 

Through the shadowy creatures, Jack could see nothing, but he could sense a spot of light among the darkness that must have been Tooth. He felt the Nightmares dissipating, taken out by some unknown means, but there were too many. Tooth was going to be overwhelmed. She wouldn’t be able to protect the children or her fairies or the teeth. 

Jack could taste her fear, feel it, and it shone like a beacon. “There!” he shouted.

“What?” North asked.

“There,” Jack repeated. “Tooth is there.”

But North couldn’t see or sense her. 

Tooth’s fear rose, mingled with pain, and Jack didn’t care anymore. He snatched the reins from North and jerked the reindeer in Tooth’s direction. Bunny toppled noisily in the back, shouting, and Sandy was suddenly gripping Jack’s shoulder. Could he feel Tooth, too? The sleigh crashed between upside-down buildings, plowed through Nightmares, and skidded to a halt just as Tooth broke free of the swarm. She flew to them desperately and it didn’t take long for the five of them to make quick work of the Nightmares that remained.

Jack could feel the rest of them retreating, but not from fear. They had accomplished their goal.

“They took my fairies and the teeth,” Tooth said hysterically. “All of them. Everything is gone!”

North wrapped his big arms around her. “Is alright,” he soothed. “We will fix.”

“Well, isn’t that a sweet sentiment,” came a voice that was all too familiar. It plagued Jack’s nightmares, echoed in the back of his mind, stung in his chest. 

From the shadows, Pitch Black appeared like a wraith, grinning his nasty sharp smile with his metallic eyes as bright as ever. Jack felt the Nightmare King’s presence grow inside his chest, spreading and spearing through him. He sank into his hood, hiding his face. He didn’t want Pitch to recognize him and try to finish what he started. Luckily, Pitch was far more interested in taunting the Guardians.

“Pitch!” Tooth shouted. She darted after him, but he melded into the shadows and disappeared. “You have thirty seconds to return my fairies or else—”

“Or else what?” Pitch taunted, materializing from behind one of the bright spires. “You’ll stick a quarter under my pillow?”

“Why are you doing this?” North shouted, brandishing his sword.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Pitch said with a sneer. “Maybe it’s because I want what you have. I’m tired of hiding under beds.”

“That’s where you belong!” Bunny shouted, brazen and harsh.

Pitch chuckled, phased through the darkness, and appeared just in front of Bunny for only an instant. Then, he vanished only to reappear several feet away, just to the left of Jack. He didn’t appear to have noticed Jack yet, but Jack had a feeling that was about to change.

“Pitch!” Bunny cursed. “You shadow-sneaking—”

A wooden boomerang whizzed past Jack’s head and cut through the space where Pitch had been standing only moments before. Then, everything happened too quickly. Pitch and his Nightmare steed dove out of sight, plummeting to the ground like a streak of dark rain. On impulse, Jack raced after them and the Guardians’ followed. Bright egg-shaped bombs exploded all around Jack, making his ears ring, but he focused only on Pitch. Frost crackled along his staff. 

Then, sharply, Pitch and his steed dove towards a seam in the cliff. In an explosion of dark sand, they both disappeared. Jack slammed after them, but he couldn’t find the invisible vein they had slipped through. He planted his feet on the wall and vaulted backwards, startling Tooth as he whipped past her in a flap of his long cloak.

“He’s gone,” North muttered when he landed on the ground beside Bunny. 

“They’re all gone,” Tooth whispered and her voice cracked with emotion. 

Suddenly, the tiny fairy Jack had rescued darted free from the safety of Sandy’s golden robe. 

“Oh!” Tooth exclaimed and reached out to cradle her fairy. “Thank MiM. At least, one of you is alright.”

The little fairy chirped excitedly and a cold ball of fear took up root in Jack’s stomach. He was pretty sure that Tooth could communicate with her fairies, otherwise what was the point? What would he do if the tiny fairy he had rescued told Tooth about his clawed hand? But the fairy finished chattering and Tooth didn’t say anything. In fact, she didn’t even look at Jack. A small breath of relief escaped Jack’s lips, but it was short-lived.

A sort of crushing wave moved through Tooth and several iridescent feathers molted from her body. Before they touched the ground, they faded completely and disappeared into nothingness. Shocked, Jack stretched out his senses, but he couldn’t feel any fear or Nightmares nearby. What was happening to Tooth?

“T-the children,” she gasped. “They’re waking up and I-I haven’t… It’s too late. They don’t believe in me anymore.”

“Tooth,” North said gently. “It is not ever too late.”

“What are we going to do?” she whispered and her amethyst eyes filled with tears. “What can we do, North?”

North paced, his hands working up and down the hilts of his swords, and muttered in Russian. Then, he whirled sharply, swinging his swords in a fantastic arc that almost lopped off Bunny’s head like a dandelion. “Idea!” he shouted. “We will collect the teeth.”

Jack couldn’t help the, “Are you serious?” that escaped him. That was such a temporary fix. They couldn’t go around collected the children’s teeth forever. They had to get to the source and stop Pitch directly, the sooner the better. 

“If we get teeth, children keep believing,” North continued as if Jack hadn’t interrupted, “in you!”

“We’re talking seven continents and millions of kids!” Tooth protested, but she was already flitting around with excitement. 

“Give me break,” North said with a wave of his hand. “You know how many presents I deliver in one night?”

“Or eggs I hide in one day?” Bunny interjected.

Tooth couldn’t argue with that logic. She grinned, her wings whirring, and her tiny fairy darted around her head, chirping. 

Sandy grinned and gave the group a proud thumbs-up.

“Wait, wait!” Jack interrupted again, jabbing his staff in their directions. “Why are we wasting time going after teeth? We should be going after Pitch.”

A moment of silence clogged the air. 

It was Sandy to turned to Jack and started to reveal a slew of symbols slowly enough for Jack to follow. ‘It’s great being a Guardian, but there’s a catch…’ Sandy gestured, ‘If enough children stop believing, everything we protect—’ here, he gestured to North, Bunny, and Tooth in turn ‘—wonder, hopes, dreams… Without the belief of children, we all lose our powers. We will diminish until nothing is left but fear and darkness and Pitch Black.’

“You’re kidding, right?” Jack said breathlessly. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Tooth shook her head. “No, Jack,” she murmured. “We depend on the belief of children.”

Jack wet his lips and glanced at his fellow spirits. Could he see signs of their diminished stature already? Was Bunny a little smaller? Was North stooped just a little? If they lost belief and weakened, there would be no one to help him take down Pitch Black. “Alright,” Jack relented. “Let’s get the teeth.”

Tooth beamed and reached to touch his shoulder, but he pulled backwards. 

“What are we waiting for?” Jack asked. “Let’s go!”

Everything happened quickly after that. Tooth explained how being a Tooth Fairy worked and gave them all some change and directions. Then, they took North’s sleigh each town and split up to collect the teeth. It became a sort of competition between Bunny and North and Jack had a feeling they were always like that. They had similar one-day-a-year holidays after all. 

Jack crept in and out of houses like a shadow and the little shard in his chest twitched with interest. He kept one hand pressed over it, breathing deeply to keep everything under control and inside. His golden eye traced the path of Nightmares. Pitch had been here, spreading fear and doubt, and Jack hated it. How dare that monster continue to torment children?

Jack made his way to the final child’s bedroom and nudged open the door. Inside, a flashlight glowed beneath the child’s hand. He must have been staying up to try to see the Tooth Fairy. Jack could only pray that the child wouldn’t awaken and see Jack’s nightmarish visage instead. Pitch’s Nightmares would certainly gain a foothold if that happened.  
It was then that Jack recognized this child as Jamie Bennett and a little flush washed through Jack’s cold body. 

Just yesterday, he had brought a little snow to Burgess and accidently caused Jamie to slip while he was playing with his friends. The boy had lost his footing and slid haphazardly towards the street. Jack had immediately sensed the heart-stopping fear and come running, but he hadn’t been able to stop Jamie’s slippery descent with more ice. In fact, it had spiraled sort of out of control and it was all Jack could do to keep Jamie from being hit by a car.

However as the wild ride went on, Jamie’s fear had lessened until nothing but fun remained and Jack’s heart swelled with it. Jack had finally managed to create a ramp and direct Jamie out of harm’s way and into a deep snowdrift at the base of the statue of Thaddeus Burgess. Jack had landed on the statue, watching as the young boy righted himself and laughed with his friends. He had been understandably excited and Jack smiled as he watched the children. 

Then, a runaway couch had careened into the drift and knocked Jamie over. Jack had winced and peered down at the children with concern. When Jamie got to his feet this time, he held a tooth in his hand, but his excitement hadn’t ebbed. Now, he chattered about the Tooth Fairy as he heaved himself out of the snow. Together, he and his friends made their way back to their neighborhood and were extra careful to watch out for patches of stray ice. Jack had smiled at them as they left, frost spreading across the statue in beautiful ferns and blossoms. 

Then, he had left in search of Pitch’s Nightmares.

Now, smiling at the memory, Jack slipped Jamie’s tooth into the velvet sack North had given him and laid down a quarter in its place. He turned off Jamie’s flashlight. Then, tenderly, he pulled the quilt up a little higher and tucked it in around Jamie’s narrow shoulders.

“You do care, don’t you?” came Tooth’s voice from the window.

With a jolt, Jack whirled to face her, clutching his cloak shut over his chest with his good hand. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I came to find you. Everyone else reached the rendezvous point and we were all waiting. North thought something might have happened to you,” Tooth said lightly. She closed the window gently and fluttered closer to Jack. The tiny fairy Jack had saved was perched on her shoulder and a sliver of fear clenched in his stomach. Did Tooth know about his personal darkness?

“I was a little worried,” Tooth admitted quietly, “when the Man in the Moon chose you to be a Guardian. I mean, nobody knows anything about you. North was the only one who knew your name. It was only after I saw you that I realized my little fairies had been seeing you in the sky for centuries.”

Jack shied away. “Let’s just get Pitch removed from the picture and then I’ll be out of your lives again,” he said coolly. “There’s no need for this to drag on any longer than it has to.”

She looked taken aback and protested softly, “But Jack—”

There was a grunt at the window and North heaved himself through. “Here you are!”

“Shh!” Tooth warned and pointed sharply at the sleeping Jamie.

North froze, lowered his voice, and then asked, “What gives, slowpokes?” 

Sandy drifted in through the open window at North’s back, smiling cheerfully. 

“How you feeling, Tooth?” North asked before anyone answered his first question.

“Believed in,” Tooth whispered with delight. 

“That is what I like to hear,” North said with a quiet laugh.

In the corner of the bedroom, a hole opened up and Bunny peeked through it. “I see how it is,” he said grumpily, “All working together to make sure the Pooka gets last place.”

Aggressively, North and Tooth both hushed him and pointed to Jamie. Bunny lifted his paws in defeat. 

“Now, now,” North continued. “This is about Tooth. This is not a competition, but if it was…” He slammed his giant sack down on the ground and shouted, “I win!” Then, he broke into a raucous Russian dance, hooting and yee-hawing. 

Abruptly, a bright light fell on them. 

North froze and shrunk back, whispering, “Oh no!”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat.

They all turned sharply to look at Jamie. He was profoundly awake, his flashlight trained on them, and he gasped in delight as the beam played over each of them. “Santa Claus? The Easter Bunny? Sandman? The Tooth Fairy?” he whispered. “I knew you’d come! I knew you were real!”

“He can see us?” Jack yelped, shying back further into the darkness.

Bunny pulled his eyes from Jamie’s delighted face to slide Jack a smirk. “Most of us,” he said.

The beam of Jamie’s flashlight moved over Jack and he flinched, feeling the small burn of light on his sensitive skin, but Jamie’s light didn’t linger on him. It moved to Tooth and then back to Bunny. Jack was still invisible to children, even though Jamie could see the other Guardians. Relief washed through him.

“You guys,” Tooth whispered nervously. “He’s still awake.”

“Sandy, knock him out,” Bunny said quickly.

Sandy nodded, summoned a ball of golden sand, and tossed it into Jamie’s lap. The boy immediately collapsed like a house of cards, sleeping peacefully with a smile on his face.

North said with an overdramatic sigh, “That was close—”

“Stop talking!” Jack cut in and turned towards the window in a flap of frost-dusted fabric. He peered out into the darkness, his skin burning, for a brief moment and then abruptly hurled himself into the empty sky. Frost crackled in his wake, spreading across the roof and shining in the moonlight.

For a moment, all the Guardians just stared after him and then exchanged troubled glances. What in the name of the moon was that about? Then, there was a harsh crackle and a loud dissonance of neighing. Sandy immediately jolted and leaped out the window after Jack, spiriting through the night on a golden cloud.

“Nightmares!” Tooth exclaimed.

“How did Jack know?” Bunny demanded.

“No time for that now,” North said, “Everyone, to the sleigh!”

Sandy caught up with Jack in the street. Several Nightmares lay in glittering frozen piles, tendrils of darkness rising from them like war flags. Jack stood in the center of a mass of Nightmares, his staff held low and threatening. Frost spread in a circle beneath his feet. His hood had fallen and his white hair shone like a beacon in the moonlight. Sandy’s golden whipped lashed through the fray, turning several black horses into golden stingrays that drifted lazily away. Startled, Jack whirled away from Sandy and pulled his hood up sharply just before the golden Guardian landed beside him.

“You take the ones on the left,” Jack said evenly, “I’ll take the ones on the right.”

There were so many Nightmares that such a suggestion was foolish, but Sandy nodded anyway. It wasn’t as if he had a better idea. They just had to hold out until the others arrived to back them up. Sandy unfurled his twin whips and put his back trustingly against Jack’s. The frost child tensed and then dipped his head in a quick jerk of agreement. They fought back to back for a long moment. Jack lashed out with ice, graceful and quick. Sandy was stiller with never a wasted movement and each strike of his whips took out more than two Nightmares. 

Then, melting out of the shadows, Pitch Black appeared atop a great black steed with bright yellow eyes. He glared at Jack’s cloaked figure, but still didn’t recognize him in the dimly-lit street. Just to be certain, Jack tugged his hood down a little further, cloaking his face in shadow. 

Pitch’s eyes moved to Sandy and he grinned. “Now,” he said, “this is who I’ve been looking for—”

Sandy didn’t let the Boogeyman get out more than that. He lashed out with his whips faster than Jack could even follow. It was all he could do to dive to the ground and prevent himself from being cleaved in half when Pitch returned Sandy’s blows with a giant black scythe. 

Two halves of the same great power—nightmares and dreams—and they were evenly matched, but Pitch wasn’t fighting fair. The Nightmares poured in around Jack and Sandy, braying loudly and snarling. Jack curled his fingers around his staff tightly, overwhelmed by the feelings of fear that the Nightmares gave off. Nausea gripped him and the knot of pain in his chest intensified. Still, he would fight. If he was caught, he had everything to lose.

Suddenly, a small hand closed on the back of his cloak and jerked him into the air. A spire of dream-sand rose beneath his feet as Sandy catapulted them into the relative safety of the open sky. Once they had broken free of the corner they had been backed into, Sandy tossed Jack onto the wind and turned his attention to the Nightmares. Jack did the same, grateful to have the entire sky as his battlefield. The wind was his ally, blowing Nightmares off course and slamming them into each other.

A moment later, North’s sleigh appeared on the horizon. Jack could hear North’s loud Russian war cry even from where he was. His twin swords shone in the moonlight, slashing Nightmares into dust. Tooth leaped off the sleigh and wove through the army of Nightmares like a quick river. Her wings were flashes of light, cutting down Nightmares left and right. Bunny had let go of his fear of heights and was hurling his boomerangs through the darkness. To Jack’s left, Sandy was a golden halo. 

Jack could feel the number of Nightmares decreasing deep in his chest. His nausea abated slightly, but it was far from over. 

The light of the moon had been blotted out. 

Pitch loomed up on a dark cloud, his eyes and teeth shining through the darkness. Jack felt radiating danger in his chest, throbbing like a drum in time with his heartbeat. He felt the shadows swirl and condense, pressing hard and sharp. Delight danced through the Nightmares’ collected consciousness. They knew something was coming. Jack put his hand over his chest, freezing the tendril deep inside him, and looked up just in time to see Pitch draw back a hideous black arrow and aim at Sandy’s exposed back.

“No!” Jack shouted, but he already knew his warning was too late. Even so, he streaked through the night towards Sandy. Maybe, if he could get there in time, he could do something.

Pitch glanced at Jack, saw the vast distance between them, and smirked. Then, he let the arrow fly.

Sandy had turned towards Jack to see why he was shouting and Jack had a perfect view of the Sandman’s face as the sharp arrow of fear fell on him. Like it had all those years ago when Pitch had attacked Jack, the stream of darkness poured through Sandy’s body. It swirled and dug, burrowed towards his core and shredded everything in its path. Jack knew what it felt like and knew that pain and fear. He clutched his staff and stretched his body longer and thinner. 

The wind howled with his desperation.

“Don’t fight it!” Pitch cackled. “You can’t escape the fear!”

Those words struck a chord deep inside Jack’s chest and called to the tendril of darkness. Pain speared through his slight body, weaving through his golden eye and into his clawed hand. For a moment, his body turned against him. The shadow didn’t want to help Sandy—it wanted Pitch to succeed so that fear could blanket the world. 

Jack struggled against it, breathing in cold air and letting out snowflakes with his harsh breath. “No,” he told it. “No.”

Sandy doubled over on the golden cloud, darkness spilling through every grain of golden sand that made up his body. His face was a mask of pain and shock, fear and anguish. He clutched his chest and glanced at Jack as the frost child streamed towards him. For a moment, Jack thought he felt something different in the Nightmares, but it was gone to quickly to be certain. Then, Sandy composed his features into a mask of surrender as the darkness crept up his neck.

“No!” Jack shouted. 

Sandy closed his bright eyes as the Nightmares swarmed over him like a tide of black water. There was a final flare of golden light from within and then nothing but darkness. Cackling with delight, the Nightmares slid back to Pitch and settled beneath him.

Sandy was gone. 

Pitch’s laugh filled the deep night, echoing in Jack’s mind and chest. 

“No!” Jack screamed.

Jack barreled towards Pitch with all the speed and rage he could muster. The hood of his cloak flapped backwards, revealing his face and the damage Pitch had done centuries ago, but the Guardians were too far away to see. He bared his sharp teeth and he saw everything through his one golden eye. Strands of light wove through the dark sand, intertwining there as the two powers once again returned to one. 

For a moment, Pitch just stared at Jack as he blew closer. The Nightmare King’s mind worked, spun, as he tried to figure out why he knew this winter sprite. 

“Pitch Black!” Jack shouted. 

“You?” Pitch murmured, staring into Jack’s twisted face. “I know you…”

From behind, Jack sensed a Nightmare bearing down in his vulnerable back. He twisted and blasted the single horse into nothing more than shards and splinters.

Recognition flashed across Pitch’s face and settled in his eyes. Shock and a touch of fear moved through him. “It can’t be,” he breathed out. “You’re… Jack Frost…”

A second Nightmare lunged at Jack, but he could feel it drawing hungrily close. He knocked that one out of the air too and then he was inches from Pitch. With a startled yelp, Pitch lifted his arms and the army of Nightmares echoed the motion. They blended together, condensed into a wave of darkness that Jack had no hope to fight even with his advantage. Panic welled in his chest, pressed cold and icy against his heart. He would be like Sandy, devoured by the Nightmares until nothing was left.

“No!” Jack screamed and backpedaled desperately.

The deluge of Nightmares fell across him. They called, cried out, for the kin that lived in his chest. Jack felt it move, drawing power from the fear and despair he felt. He folded his hands over his chest, trying to find the calm that allowed him to settle the strand of darkness as he had for more than two centuries. The wind whispered against his skin and then Jack reached it. Frost fanned wildly across his chest, sinking deep and quieting the strand inside. 

Then, something amazing happened. 

The freezing frost continued beyond Jack’s chest and hands. Through his golden eye, Jack saw the frost leap along three grains of nightmare-sand to his right. Then, they spread to more and more Nightmares. The frost devoured and chilled, working its way wildly uncontrollably back to Pitch Black. Jack tasted Pitch’s fear as the tide of frost wove ferociously back through the Nightmare army to the core where Pitch still stood. There was a sort of explosion that rocked everything.

Pitch shouted in surprise and terror as the darkness combusted into nothing more than stinging frost and black sand. He plummeted through the sky like a stone, helpless and shrieking in his accented voice. Then, he went silent. 

Breathing desperately, Jack dropped several feet before the wind caught and cradled him. Through the lingering fear and nausea that filled his chest, he had enough presence of mind to pull his hood back up over his face.

North’s sleigh came to greet him and he sank gratefully down onto one of the benches, gripping his staff tightly.

“Jack,” Tooth asked eagerly. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed and he didn’t. In all the years he had been connected to Pitch’s Nightmares, he had never been able to destroy more than one at a time. 

However, Jack’s excitement was short-lived. 

The fear of children fed the Nightmares. He could already feel them piecing themselves back into the numbers that they had been before his strange frost decimated them. As they reformed, they didn’t scatter to the four winds either. They remained in a group, speaking in their twisted language, and Jack knew that Pitch was still alive as well. This was not over—not yet.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns?

Let’s see some reviews or I’ll take my sweet time posting the next chapter.


	3. April 7, 2012: Part II

I didn’t mean for the rehash of the movie to be so long, but I’m really enjoying writing about Fearling!Jack so I hope everyone likes reading about him.

X X X

~April 7, 2012~

The moon sank away as if weighted by sorrow. Dawn lightened on the horizon, painting the sky an array of pinks, reds, and golds. In silence, the three remaining Guardians and Jack Frost returned to the North Pole. They had a brief funeral for Sandman while Jack sat at the window, feeling for the Nightmares and Pitch Black with every fiber of his fear-senses. He tried to feel Sandy’s golden light among the blackness, but there only nauseating fear. 

Half an hour later, North sought Jack out, carrying a mug of hot cider that he offered to the frost spirit. Jack declined politely. He kept his face veiled within his shadowy hood, his disfigured hand tucked close against his side, and his bruised clawed feet drawn up beneath his cloak. He kept his secret close and worried for it constantly. He couldn’t wait for Pitch to slink back into the shadows so Jack could leave the Guardians behind and retreat to the safety of the wide empty world where no one could see him and no one cared.

“That was amazing thing you did,” North began unevenly when Jack didn’t speak.

“It didn’t matter,” Jack interrupted grimly. “Sandy’s still gone.”

“But he would be proud you stood up to Pitch,” North said gently.

“I don’t need you to comfort me,” Jack said coldly. “Sandy wasn’t my friend.”

North stared at Jack for a long moment and then said smoothly, “You know I don’t believe that.”

Jack exhaled sharply, feeling the jolt of the shadow in his chest as it fed on his callousness. “Believe what you want,” he said softly. “It’s belief that got you all into this mess.”

“And belief will get us out of it,” North continued resolutely. “Come. We go to Warren. Easter is tomorrow.”

Jack shook his head, but rose to his feet and smoothed his cloak against his body with his one good hand. “Fine,” he said once he had picked up his staff. “Let’s go.”

North shrugged into his heavy fur-lined red coat and followed Jack into the Globe Room where Bunny and Tooth were waiting. Bunny opened a tunnel with a quick tap-tap-tap of his large foot and bounded down to lead the way into his Warren. North dropped into the hole in an undignified manner, shouting in Russian and flailing. Several yetis and elves tumbled in after him. Tooth and her one little fairy flew down as well, laughing like little birds. 

Jack was the last in, floating through the grass-lined tunnel like a leaf. When he came out on the other side, he squinted in the sudden brightness. Though his sensitivity to light had decreased greatly over the centuries, he still didn’t appreciate the special brand of brightness that came with spring. His skin prickled and itched so he drew back a little further into his cloak. 

“Welcome to the Warren,” Bunny said with a proud sweep of his paw.

Even Jack had to admit that the Easter Bunny’s home was pretty cool though it was overwhelmingly filled with flora. It felt very ancient beneath Jack’s bare feet, breathing like the archaic earth he heard Mother Nature whisper about sometimes. Flowers bloomed everywhere in a rainbow of blinding colors—red foxgloves, ochre daffodils, silver-green hydrangeas, violet hyacinths—and their perfume touched everything. Butterflies danced on the warm breeze, fluttering around Bunny’s long ears. At every turn, great stone golems in the shape of eggs stood with smiling faces on one side and stern glares on the other.

Then, Bunny froze. His ears twitched and his whiskers whirred. “Something’s wrong,” he said sharply.

Jack wrinkled his brow and stretched his senses through the warm air. He couldn’t feel any Nightmares or even a trace of fear. This place glowed with enchantment, hope, and happiness. 

Suddenly, a tide of pale unpainted eggs came running out of a wide tunnel, but even they didn’t feel afraid. Jack watched, stunned, as the Guardians, the golems, and the yetis charged forward with a variety of war cries. As Jack had expected, no hideous snarling Nightmare emerged from the tunnel. In fact, it was the furthest thing from one of Pitch’s minions. It was a child, a little blonde girl wearing polka-dotted pajamas. 

“Sophie?” Jack asked no one in particular once he recognized her as Jamie’s little sister.

The Guardians froze mid-run, stared at the little girl for a few heartbeats, and then shoved their weapons behind their backs as nonchalantly as possible. Sophie stared at them a moment longer, dropped the armful of eggs she had gathered, and raced to grab the leg of one of the yetis, giggling all the while.

“Oh Moon,” Bunny wailed. “What is she doing here?”

Puzzled, North felt along the pockets of his large jacket. “Ah, snow globe,” he remarked. 

“Crikey! Somebody do something!”

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” Tooth put in quickly. “I bet you she’s a fairy fan.” Then, in a fantastic flourish, she swept herself before Sophie. As expected, the little girl immediately followed the bright fairy, smiling and laughing. “I’ve got something for you,” Tooth said cheerfully and produced something from within the folds of her feathers. “Look at all the pretty teeth with little blood and gum on them.”

Also as expected, Sophie immediately wailed in horror and rushed away, shrieking. She was young and easily distracted, though, and had forgotten her fear an instant later once she got her hands on one of North’s jingling elves. Giggling, she dragged the elf away by his hat.

“Blood and gums?” Jack repeated incredulously, staring at Tooth through the darkness of his hood. He was careful to keep his head tilted so she wouldn’t be able to see his golden eye. “Are you nuts? When was the last time any of you actually hung out with kids?””

Tooth stared at him in shock, her hand still outstretched with the teeth in her palm.

“We are very busy bring joy to children!” North exclaimed. “We do not have time—”

Sophie rushed by, giggling as she chased butterflies. 

“—for children,” North finished, but it sounded more like a question.

Jack snorted, stretched out his good hand, and created a sparkling snowflake to dance across his fingers. “If one little girl can ruin Easter, then we’re in worse shape than I thought. Where’s your patented powerful belief now?”

Bunny looked about to snap at Jack so the frost spirit let his snowflake loose to hit Bunny smartly in the nose. The Easter Bunny’s green eyes widened and then sparkled with some emotion that Jack felt tingling warmly in his chest. Much to Jack’s surprise, Bunny turned his attention to the little girl and took her hand, leading her further into the Warren where he painted and designed his eggs. Jack smiled to himself and loosened his worried grip on his cloak. 

It was organized chaos as the Guardians, the yetis, and Jack Frost painted Easter Eggs. Jack was surprised just how much of the painting was left to a river of color or specially-designed plants and not Bunny himself. He had always imagined the Easter Bunny taking the whole year to paint the eggs by hand and now that he knew he didn’t, Jack felt a little slighted. After all, he took the time to craft each and every snowflake by hand.

“Rimsky-Korsakov,” North exclaimed when they were finished. “That’s a lot of eggs.”

“Think this will be enough?” Jack asked.

Bunny nodded, grinning, “Bet your nelly.”

Sophie stumbled over to them and settled into Bunny’s arms sleepily. Bunny cradled her with surprising gentleness, looking down at her sweet face with something that was almost love as he tucked a single egg into her hands. She clung to it in her sleep, murmuring.

“I think it’s time to bring her home,” Tooth said softly.

“I’ll take her home,” Jack offered.

“Jack, no,” Tooth protested. “Pitch is out there—”

“He’s no match for this,” Jack said sternly and brandished his staff.

“That’s why you should stay here, mate,” Bunny put in.

“Don’t worry,” Jack said with a smile they could barely see through his shadowed hood. “I’ll be quick as a bunny.”

Relenting, Bunny handed Sophie to Jack and the winter spirit held her carefully with his good arm, keeping his clawed hand out of sight. Then, he flew into the bright sky and disappeared from their sight. The wind gently brushed his hood back and caressed his face. Relief washed through Jack. He didn’t like hiding, but it was necessary. Though he knew no one would like the monster he had been turned into, it was part of him now and he tried to accept that. He couldn’t change it, even if he wanted to.

Jack breathed deeply, letting himself relax. He easily found the Bennett home, nudged open the window, and slipped inside. Gently, he tried to lay Sophie down on her unmade bed, but she had locked her hands around his neck and was hanging on tightly. It took him a moment to pry her off, tuck her in, and nestle Bunny’s egg beneath the covers with her. Mumbling in her dreams, she rolled over and snuggled into the blankets. Jack gazed down at her for a moment, smiling as his heart warmed. He loved seeing happy children. 

Jack glanced out the window. While it might have been sunny in the Warren, it was still night here and the moon hung comfortingly in the sky, chasing away shadows. Jack slipped out of the Bennett house and sat down on the edge of their roof, watching over the sleeping town. The tension slowly left him, melting away as the moonlight smoothed over the darkness on his skin and in his eye. He let out a breath of snowflakes and watched them dance away on the soft breeze. 

Slowly, the stars began to fade and the moon sank low. It was time to go back. 

Jack pulled up his hood and smoothed his clawed hand through his hair. Making sure all the damaged parts of him were hidden, he slowly flew back to the hidden entrance to the Warren that led to the surface, but when the door slid open, he felt it. A surge of power and fear knocked him to his knees. Gasping, he closed his hands over his chest, but the tendril of darkness was out of control. It fed on the Guardians’ horror, on the rise in power, on the fear that Jack himself felt. He knew something had gone horrendously wrong.

Through sheer will and freezing ice, Jack managed to bring the shard of darkness in his chest under control. He gasped for breath raggedly and scraped himself from the cold ground. The fear had diminished, but it still felt like needles in his skin. He rushed through the tunnel, stricken with the sight of smashed eggs and shredded baskets. Just like with Sandy, he knew it was too late, but he went anyway. He came out on the other side of the tunnel in the small clearing where Burgess held its yearly Easter Egg Hunt. 

Everything was already over and only traces of nightmare-sand were visible through his golden eye.

Children shambled about with empty baskets. Bunny stood in the midst of everything, his jade eyes wide and fractured. Tooth was standing on her feet, unable to find the strength to fly. North emerged from the woods, his arms dragged down by the weight of his swords. 

“Jack,” North said when he saw the frost spirit. “The Nightmares attacked the tunnels. They destroyed everything…” For a moment, North was quiet and then his blue eyes turned to Jack and they glinted like tiny daggers. He asked stonily, “Where were you?” 

“I—” Jack didn’t have the words to explain that he had been fighting back the sliver of darkness that lived inside his body, threatening to turn him into one of Pitch’s Fearlings the moment he let his guard down. If he said that, only the moon knew what would happen. “I—”

“Jack!” Tooth flew over, feathers falling from her body like leaves from a dying tree. “Why weren’t you here? Do you see what happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said softly. “I didn’t—”

“He has to go,” Bunny broke in.

Jack turned, his heart pounding against his ribcage like it would break his bones to escape. 

“We should never have trusted you!” Bunny shouted. He lunged towards Jack, fist raised to strike.

A desperate fear rose in Jack’s chest even as tears burned in his one blue eye. He leaped backwards, heart in his throat and staff leveled between them. 

Suddenly, a guided missile of blue and green hurled itself at Jack’s face. He had only a moment to be happy that Tooth’s little fairy was alright before he felt her beak snag on his hood. He whirled, clutching at the fabric in horror, but she was quicker than he was. His hood dropped around his shoulders and the morning sunlight seared across his face. Jack tried to turn away, but it was already too late. 

The Guardians gasped and Jack felt their fear spike.

“A Fearling,” Tooth breathed out as she took in the sight of his clawed hand reaching to pull his hood back up even though the damage was already done. “This whole time…? You’ve been…?”

North swung his sword at Jack and the frost sprite just barely escaped the tip of the blade. “Is this why you agreed to help us?” North demanded. “Have you been with Pitch this whole time?”

“No,” Jack tried to say. “No, I—” 

Jack fidgeted with his hood, trying to hide within it, but Bunny jerked it down from behind. The old fragile fabric tore hideously beneath Bunny’s sharp claws, ripping all the way down Jack’s back into a useless husk that slid from his shoulders. It dropped to his feet, exposing everything that wasn’t hidden by the long-sleeved shirt and pants he wore beneath the threadbare cloak.

In sharp contrast to his blue eye, his golden eye gleamed brightly and from it, shadows wove down Jack’s pale face and into his hair. The shining silver locks threaded with faint darkness just above his golden eye and curved down around his ear. His lips folded over his sharp teeth, hiding them even as the muscles around his mouth tried to twitch into an uncontrollable snarl. His clawed toes curled nervously, digging into the soil, and he clenched his clawed hand in the material of his thin pants. His wrists, feet, and throat were peppered with smears of ink that spread along his veins. 

Beneath his shirt, Jack felt the thorny tendril of darkness curl with delight as his secret was revealed. His breath rattled in his lungs and he felt nauseous with the fear that rose all around him.

Tooth gasped, her small hands flying to cover her mouth. “Oh, Moon,” she whispered.

Jack shrank away, his mismatched eyes darting across the ground, but Bunny’s tight grip prevented him from fleeing. They stared at him, took in the damage, the darkness, everything. They saw what a monster he was. Their fear only rose as they considered what having him with them meant. Had they doomed themselves and the children? Had this been part of Pitch’s plan all along?

“Get out of here,” Bunny shouted and shoved Jack away.

Jack stumbled through the new grass and stopped just out of their strike range, pausing to look at them one final time. North had turned away, Bunny was glaring at him fiercely, and though Tooth looked at him sadly, there was fear in her beautiful amethyst eyes. Jack didn’t stay longer than that. He leaped onto the wind and vanished, leaving behind the torn cloak that he had hidden beneath for centuries.

…

Antarctica welcomed Jack like an old friend. 

For a long time, he trudged through the snow with only the wind at his back. He had worn that cloak for so long that he felt naked without it, but he couldn’t bring himself to go anywhere to find a new one. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts and the spine of darkness inside his chest. Even know, he could feel the children’s fear as the Nightmares fed off it and it made him sick to his stomach. He tried to convince himself to go and help regardless of what he was, but he didn’t have the strength to fight against both the Guardians and Pitch Black. He would lose that fight and then he would be nothing but one of Pitch’s shadowy minions.

For the first time in decades, Jack looked up at the sky and asked the moon, “Why did you put me here? Did you really think I could do anything to help?”

The moon remained silent, just as it always had.

Jack sighed heavily and pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m stupid,” he whispered. “I’m so stupid. I should have just stayed away.”

It was then that Jack felt Pitch’s approach. The world was full of shadows that the Nightmare King could move through at will. Though Jack had spent more than a decade teaching himself to track Pitch through those invisible doorways of darkness, it still took intense concentration. Pitch was almost upon him by the time Jack realized where the door would open. Pitch materialized, a single inky stain against the arctic whiteness. He approached Jack slowly, cautiously, his hands in the open.

Jack extended his staff. “Stay where you are,” he snapped at Pitch. “Don’t come any closer to me.”

Pitch’s metallic eyes raked over Jack, sized him up, and then he stopped where he was. “Jack Frost,” he said silkily. “How long has it been?

“Almost two-hundred-and-fifty years,” Jack hissed. “You won’t catch me ever again.”

Pitch chuckled. “So hateful, aren’t you? I think I liked you better the first night I met you. You were so… willing…” 

Jack tensed, his toes curling into the ice. His chest throbbed with Pitch’s proximity. 

“So, where are your little friends?” Pitch asked scathingly when he saw that Jack wasn’t going to rise to the bait. 

Without answering, Jack hurled a wave of ice at Pitch. Pitch blocked it easily with a wall of nightmare-sand. In the blurred smoke that followed, Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He stretched out his senses, feeling the pockets of shadows, reaching for Pitch. It didn’t take long for him to pinpoint the Nightmare King, form a dagger of ice in his hand, and throw it in his direction. There was a sharp cry of pain and the wind gusted through the arctic to clear away the smoke. Pitch was pinned to a great pillar of ice and shadows. Jack’s dagger was embedded deep in his shoulder and dark blood streamed from the wound.

“How did you find me?” Pitch snarled at Jack, tugging the spire of ice with one hand and wincing in pain. “You couldn’t possibly have actually seen me. I was inside the shadows.”

Jack gripped his staff and his mouth twisted into a nasty toothy grimace. “When you attacked me with your darkness all those years ago,” he hissed, “I managed to fight it off. Now, I’m connected to your Nightmares. I’m connected to you.”

Pitch’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Let’s test this theory, shall we?” Then, he melted away into the darkness, leaving his blood and Jack’s dagger behind.

Jack turned slowly, his golden eye trained for the smallest glimpse of movement. When Pitch appeared just behind Jack, he already had his staff leveled at the Nightmare King’s throat.

“Very interesting,” Pitch remarked and took several steps backwards. “Would you like to join me, Jack? You could be a valuable asset to me and I could teach you to control the shadow inside you.”

Jack snorted. “Fat chance. The last time I met you, you turned me into this!” He gestured one hand at his ruined body, his golden eye, his darkened skin, his claws. 

Pitch hummed low in his throat. “Well, I had to try,” he said. Then, he reached inside his robe and withdrew Tooth’s tiny fairy. The poor creature was crushed between his fingers, chirping desperately and painfully. Her fear spiked through Jack and nearly sent him to his knees. 

“No,” Jack gasped and aimed his staff at Pitch’s head. Frost crackled along it, glinting in the brightness of the arctic. “Let her go!”

“Give me your staff, Jack Frost,” Pitch said coldly. “Hand it over and I’ll let her go.”

The little fairy’s mismatched eyes rolled wildly from Jack to Pitch and back again.

Jack hesitated, his mind racing. Without his staff, he’d be powerless to fight the Nightmares and if they overtook him, it would all be over for him, but if he didn’t help Tooth’s fairy, Pitch would certainly kill her. He bit his lower lip, sharp teeth prickling. Yet why should he care about Tooth’s fairy? The little creature had revealed his secret when he might have otherwise hidden it. It wasn’t as if he owed the little fairy anything. In fact, he should let Pitch kill her and run while he had the chance.

Pitch tightened his grip.

The little fairy’s chirps grew more frantic and pained. Her fear sliced through Jack, ripping through his tenderness and care despite everything.

Jack knew he would never be able to leave her to die, even if it cost him everything. With a sharp breath, Jack lowered his staff and turned it towards Pitch. For a moment, the Boogeyman looked shocked, as if even he hadn’t expected this plan to work, but then a hideous grin spread across his face. He grabbed Jack’s staff and held it greedily.

“Now,” Jack said sternly and stretched out his good hand, “Let her go.”

“No,” Pitch said cruelly.

Jack’s eyes widened and the thread of darkness constricted around his heart. He doubled over, crying out, as the Nightmare inside him raged against the bonds of frost and bone. Agony speared through Jack, ripping him at the seams, and Pitch was laughing. Jack stared at Pitch, hate welling up inside him, but that only fed the fear. He choked it back, trying to center himself, trying to fight back the darkness. Then, he saw Pitch lift his hand to call down Nightmares and Jack’s heart stopped. 

This was it. 

It was all over.

Tooth’s tiny fairy reacted then. She squirmed in Pitch’s tight grasp and he was so focused on Jack that he didn’t notice until she had already jammed her needle-sharp beak into his hand. With a cry, Pitch hurled the tiny fairy away. Jack heard her terrified shrieks as she fell into an icy chasm nearby, unable to fly. Pitch was distracted, nursing his hand, and Jack lunged at him desperately. Instinct drove him. He had to get his staff back, had to try to fight off the darkness, had to try to save himself. 

Pitch threw Jack off with a wave of nightmare-sand that cracked Jack’s frail body into the icy mountain. Darkness clutched at Jack, sucked him in and down, and he desperately fought to keep his consciousness. Though the wind tried to lift him, he was already falling. He fell into the rift and heard Pitch chuckle far above him.

“You won’t escape the fear this time, Jack,” Pitch taunted. “You won’t escape a second time.” Then, Pitch tossed Jack’s staff idly into the fissure and walked away. 

Distantly, Jack felt the shadows come to engulf Pitch and take him away to whatever remained of his plan, but he didn’t have the energy to focus on it. He fisted his hands in the material of his blue shirt and tried to breathe deeply. His chest speared with agony as the thread of darkness roiled within him. He convulsed, his body shredding at the seams as it had so long ago. The wind whispered against him, filling his lungs with cool fresh air, but it was no use. 

Jack cried out and collapsed on his side. He curled in on himself, clutching his midsection, as the thread tried to tear its way deeper into him. Frost spread wildly along his body and skin, but it wasn’t going deep enough to reach the dark tendril. There was too much fear in the world, too many Nightmares, too many shadows. Jack couldn’t regain control. It was flowing through him, eating through him, devouring him, turning him.

Frantically, he clawed at the icy ground and bit back his cries of agony. He tried to breathe deeper. He couldn’t give up, but the battle was uphill and he was losing. Gasping, he tightened his grip over his chest and spread ice across his clothes and skin. The tendril thrashed inside him, ripping through everything soft and gentle. Jack’s back bowed backwards, his toes curled, and his teeth ground as everything shattered all around him. The darkness rushed and spread.

Then, Jack felt the lightest warm touch on his face. There was fear, but it was a different sort of fear than he had been feeling for the past two centuries. This fear wasn’t fuel for the Nightmares or for Pitch. It was fear for Jack—for him, not even of him. It was for him. Someone was afraid for him, for what was happening to him. Jack forced his eyes open and gazed at Tooth’s tiny fairy. She was sitting close to him, her little hand resting on the dark patch just above his eye, and she chirped with concern. 

Jack sucked in a desperate breath of cold air, shut his eyes, and focused on that spot of light in the darkness. He let her concern feed him, pushing away the agony and despair and fear. Slowly, the wind fed him more cold air, wrapping him within a cocoon of coldness, as Jack built up the icy armor that surrounded his chest. Somehow, through some unbelievable impossible miracle, he managed to push back the darkness. The shard settled and the pain ebbed. 

Jack breathed deeply and lay still for a long moment, trying to pull the aching pieces of himself back together. All the while, Tooth’s fairy sat beside him, stroking a single strand of his hair with her small hand. Finally, he righted himself and stared at her.

“Thanks, Baby Tooth,” he whispered.

She chirped and then lowered her eyes to the ground.

Though Jack didn’t speak her language, he could sense her emotions. “I know,” he murmured and stared down at his clawed hand and bruised wrists. “I know. You were afraid for Tooth and the others when you saw what I was… I understand.”

Baby Tooth smiled at him weakly and flew onto his shoulder where she perched delicately. 

Jack rose shakily to his feet and picked up his staff. He leaned on it for a moment to catch his breath and then let the wind lift him out of the fissure. “I know they don’t want me back,” he whispered more to himself than the wind or Baby Tooth, “but without me, they won’t survive. That can’t happen to the children.”

Baby Tooth chirped in agreement and hung onto his jacket as he flew quickly back to Burgess. She did her best to tell him everything that had happened since the Guardians had learned his secret. Pitch had launched another attack, crushing belief and instilling fear everywhere. There was only one child left in the world who still believed in the Guardians with all his heart—the Last Light, Jamie Bennett.

It didn’t take Jack long to return to Jamie’s house, but he hesitated on the other side of the window. Jamie was still awake, talking to his stuffed rabbit about crossroads and proof, and his belief was wavering. Nightmares were coming, Pitch was coming, and the fear was growing. 

Jack didn’t have time to think. He just acted. 

He slipped in through Jamie’s unlocked window and breathed frost on the glass. Though he had never been much of an artist, he quickly drew a lopsided Easter Egg and decorated it as best he could. Jamie gasped and leaped to his feet, standing on top of the bed and watching with rapt attention as Jack drew a small rabbit on the pane above it. Then, Jack cupped his hands and breathed and hoped. Slowly, the rabbit came to life and sprang off the glass. It bounced around the room.

Jamie whirled to follow it, laughing, and Jack laughed too. His chest felt light for the first time in centuries. Then, the rabbit vanished in a firework of snowflakes that drifted slowly down on Jamie. Jack nervously nibbled his knuckle, waiting to see what would happen now. Had he managed to invigorate Jamie’s belief or had he only made things worse?

“Snow?” Jamie whispered, holding up his hands to catch the cold flakes. His mother was always warning him about the cold, telling him that Jack Frost would nip his nose right off, and he had always dismissed her warnings as fairytales. But he had met the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus and maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a story after all. “Jack Frost?” he whispered to the empty room.

Jack froze, his heart thudding raggedly behind his ribs, but he reminded himself that children couldn’t see him. He forced himself not to flee as Jamie slowly turned and looked right where he was standing at the foot of the bed.

“Jack Frost,” Jamie breathed out.

Jack felt just a tinge of fear move through the room, so quickly that it was like a cloud passing over the sun, and he knew that Jamie could see him. Horror took up root in his chest and he staggered backwards into the shadows and into Jamie’s desk, knocking things over noisily. 

“Y-you’re Jack Frost, a-aren’t you?” Jamie asked softly.

Jack could only nod, his mouth too dry to speak.

“Why don’t you come out?” Jamie asked.

“I can’t,” Jack choked out. 

“Why not?” Jamie asked as he slipped out of bed and reached for the lamp.

Jack had never wished for his heavy cloak more than he did at that moment. Jamie was between him and the window, blocking his escape. “No,” Jack whispered. “Don’t look.” He squeezed his eyes shut as Jamie turned on the light, waiting to hear the screams.

“You look… different… than I expected,” Jamie whispered.

A ragged noise escaped Jack. “You’re not supposed to be able to see me,” Jack breathed out. “I’m supposed to be invisible.”

“Why?” Jamie asked innocently.

“Because… I look like this,” Jack whispered and folded his clawed hand against his throbbing chest. 

“That’s okay,” Jamie whispered and reached out to gingerly run his fingertips along Jack’s cold hand. “I met Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Sandman, and the Easter Bunny. They were different from what I was expecting too.”

Jack laughed weakly. “I’m sure.”

“Do you know them?” Jamie asked.

Jack nodded and whispered, “But they… they don’t want me with them… because of this…”

“That’s not very nice,” Jamie murmured. “My mom always says that you shouldn’t judge someone based on how they look.”

Weakly, Jack nodded. For the first fifty-six years of his life, he had fantasized about the day children would believe in him and finally see him. Then, Pitch had destroyed his body and he started hoping that children would never see him. Now, he didn’t know what to feel. His heart was torn in several different directions all at once. 

Outside Jamie’s bedroom window, there was an explosion of light and they both turned to look.

“It’s North’s snow globe,” Jack whispered. “They must have come for you, to protect you from Pitch Black.”

“Pitch Black?” Jamie asked and his voice shook.

“The Boogeyman,” Jack explained and grabbed his staff. “They’ll protect you. I should go.”

Jamie’s hand closed tightly in the material of Jack’s sweater. “Don’t go,” he insistently. “Stay with me, please.”

Jack wouldn’t have been able to deny that request even if he had wanted to. Taking a shuddering breath, he nodded and gathered Jamie close with his good arm. He cradled the child against his side, jumped out the window, and Jamie let out a little cry of delight as they flew to where North’s sleigh had crash-landed in the middle of the street. Jack touched down lightly a small distance away and watched nervously as North and Tooth righted themselves. He didn’t see Bunny.

“Wow,” Jamie said softly.

North turned his head sharply and then his bright blue eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here, Jack?” North demanded.

Jack forced himself not to shy away as he said, “Same as you.”

It was then that North’s eyes fell on Jamie. “The Last Light,” he breathed out. 

“Don’t you dare hurt him,” Tooth said fiercely.

Jack flinched as if he had been struck by each bitter word. 

Jamie tightened his arms around Jack’s neck. “Don’t talk to him like that,” he said. “It’s not very nice. He didn’t do anything to you.”

Tooth’s eyes widened and she looked quickly from Jamie to Jack and back again. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Baby Tooth told me everything,” Jack murmured and tightened his arm around Jamie’s small warm body. “I came to help.”

“She’s with you?” Tooth gasped. “Where? Where is she?” 

Baby Tooth worked her way free of the tangle of Jamie’s arms and Jack’s hood, chirping delightedly. She wobbled to Tooth and landed in her open palms without ever stopping to take a breath. She must have told Tooth everything that had happened between Pitch and Jack because Tooth’s amethyst eyes welled with tears.

“Oh Jack,” Tooth breathed out. “I’m so sorry.”

Jack shrugged lightly, still holding his staff and Jamie close. His skin prickled with awareness. Nightmares were swarming in great numbers around Burgess, Pitch was coming, and they were running short on time for this happy little reunion.

“Where’s Bunny?” Jack asked softly.

North lowered his eyes. “Losing Easter took a toll on all of us,” he murmured, “Bunny most of all.”

Tooth reached into the ruined sleigh and pulled out a tiny ball of fluff that couldn’t possibly be the boastful Bunny Jack knew. 

“Oh no,” Jack whispered.

Jamie tensed in Jack’s arms and a little shiver ran through his thin form. Jack could feel his fear, but what child wouldn’t be afraid? It was a miracle that Jamie still believed and that he hadn’t been terrified into a coma when he managed to see Jack Frost. Soothingly, Jack rubbed Jamie’s back, but there wasn’t much comfort he could offer. Pitch was too strong for Jack to take on by himself and the Guardians were too weak to even cheer from the sidelines.

“What should we do?” Tooth whispered. “What can we do?”

Overhead, the cloud-filled sky crackled with lightning. Jack turned his head and saw a dark shape against the lightning. Pitch was up there, lurking, waiting like the monster in the closet. Jack’s only hope was to try to get to Pitch before the Boogeyman could get to Jamie. Gingerly, he set Jamie down on the cold pavement and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. 

To Tooth, he said, “Get Jamie out of here and keep him safe.”

She nodded and reached out her hand for Jamie to take. In her other arm, she held Bunny and Baby Tooth tightly.

“Be careful, Jack,” North said.

Jack nodded, just once, and then leaped into the sky. The wind lifted him away, angling him through the clouds on a direct path towards Pitch Black. Soundlessly, Jack wove through the clouds and finally neared Pitch. His skin burned, his chest throbbed, but the tendril of darkness inside remained still. For that, he was grateful. Gripping his staff tightly, Jack dove at Pitch and frost exploded from him. Though Pitch was surprised, he quickly lifted his hand and the frost dissolved against his nightmare-sand like a heat shield. 

“That little trick doesn’t work on me anymore,” Pitch shouted. 

The Nightmare King swept his hand out and a wave of Nightmares fell on Jack from the side. Through his golden eye, Jack saw something bright flash through the dark sand. Before he could look closer, Jack was knocked from the air and sent plummeting towards the ground. The wind managed to snare him inches from the pavement, but couldn’t hold him up for more than a second that close to the ground. Saved from a crushing fall, Jack landed hard on the macadam with the breath knocked from his lungs.

Wheezing, he forced himself into a sitting position and gingerly felt along his chest. The thread of darkness was still calm, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t stay that way for long. North and the others rounded the corner. Jamie spotted him and rushed forward before Tooth could pull him back.

“Jack!” Jamie exclaimed, gripping his blue shirt tightly with both hands. “What happened? I saw you fall.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Jack said breathlessly. “He’s too strong. I can’t—”

Fear spiked through Jamie and Jack cut himself off. Jamie gripped his hand tightly, uncaring for the dangerous black claws that grew from Jack’s fingertips. At the mouth of the alley, a shadow moved. Pitch’s laugh echoed towards them like a living thing.

“All this fuss,” Pitch taunted, “over one little boy and yet he refuses to stop believing. No matter… there are other ways to snuff out a light.”

Abruptly, the streetlamp overhead exploded in a shower of glass.

Jack pulled Jamie close, sheltering him with his body.

“Jack,” Jamie whispered. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Jack said gently and pulled Jamie just a little closer. 

Jack could feel Jamie’s fear, potent and deep, but something sparkled within it—some glimmer of light, of hope, of belief—just like what Jack had seen in the nightmare-sand. At first, he thought it was Sandy, surviving inside the nightmare-sand somehow, but now he wasn’t so sure. That glimmer didn’t fight. It was passive. 

It was just… there…

It reminded him of the fear he had felt from Baby Tooth when they were in the Antarctic crevice together and he was desperately trying to fight off the darkness inside his chest. He had felt her fear then, but it wasn’t the fear he was used to feeling. It was direct, concerned, and glimmered with the same light he could feel now. 

Focusing, Jack found that he could feel that same off lightness in all the Nightmares and even in Pitch. The fear wasn’t innately bad, he realized with a jolt. It was the way people handled fear that made it into something terrible. All he had to do was redirect the fear into something positive. 

If he could only do that…

“Jack,” Jamie whispered. 

Jack’s eyes darted and he spotted a heap of miscellaneous items beside a dumpster. Quickly, he grabbed everything, threw it down, and gusted over it with the wind. Caught off-guard, the wind was able to alternately shove Pitch backwards and push the Guardians forward onto the makeshift sleds. Jack gathered Jamie in his arms tightly and spread a road of slippery ice beneath the sleds. 

Everything lurched forward as if in slow motion. 

Then, it rushed. 

Jack heard Pitch shout something hideous at their backs, but he had already spirited everyone out of the clogged alleyway. The open street stretched out before them. Slipping and sliding along, the Guardians shouted in surprise and delight as Jack led them on a wild ride not unlike the one he had once accidentally created for Jamie.

Clutching Jack tightly around the neck, Jamie laughed softly and whispered, “I wish my friends could see this.”

“Why can’t they?” Jack asked the boy.

Jamie giggled, but Jack swooped away from the icy road. He knocked on windows and threw snowballs until all the children in Burgess were awake. A little thread of fear worked its way through his heart. What would the children think when—if—they saw him? But he pushed the fear away and hoped they would all respond like Jamie had.

Together, the large group came to a stop in Burgess’s town square. Jack set Jamie on his feet and looked back to survey the people he had gathered—six children out which only Jamie could see him, three broken-down Guardians, and himself. He didn’t really like the odds, but what choice did he have? 

Jack took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Jack,” Jamie whispered in a small voice.

“They’re just bad dreams, Jamie,” Jack said. He wanted to tell Jamie about the glimmer of light inside all the darkness, but he wasn’t sure the boy would understand. 

Jamie’s eyes sparkled with worry.

“I’ll protect you,” Jack said softly. “I promise.”

Pitch laughed, his voice echoing through the night. “You’ll protect them? But who will protect you?”

The tendril of darkness in Jack’s chest moved, tightening around his heart like a vice, and he nearly fell to his knees. It was all he could do to keep from crying out and remain standing. 

Jamie’s eyes darted, moving from Jack’s slender back to the wilting Guardians to his nervous friends. He knew that if anything was going to happen, he had to lead it and he had to do it now. Even a child could see that Jack wasn’t strong enough to beat this army of darkness and fear.

“I-I will,” Jamie said firmly and stepped forward to stand beside Jack. “I’ll protect them.”

“So will I,” Cupcake said and pushed her way between the twins, Caleb and Claude.

“I will!” Caleb said quickly. 

“Me too!” said Claude, elbowing his brother.

“I-I’ll try,” Monty said and pushed his glasses up a little further on his nose.

“And me,” Pippa said finally and stepped up behind Jack.

Jack glanced at them. He felt their fear diminish, but he wasn’t sure it would be enough.

“Still think there’s no such thing as the Boogeyman?” Pitch cackled and leered down at them from his Nightmare steed.

Blindly, Jamie reached out and clasped Jack’s hand with warm fingers. “I do believe in you,” he whispered, but his voice rose in strength. 

Again, Jack felt the glimmer of radiance in the shadows. He felt it grow and expand until it pushed away the nausea that was clawing through his stomach. He took a deep breath and focused on sensing the brightness within the fear, the gold within the black, the light in the dark. He reached out with his one good hand while his clawed fingers curled tightly around Jamie’s.

Jamie finished loudly, “I’m just not afraid of you!”

Enraged by the boy’s statement, Pitch lifted his hand and the tide of Nightmares surged forward as one. Jamie and Jack stood their ground, each holding the other up. Jack felt the glimmer, saw it with his golden eye, and he stretched out every ounce of what he had to reach it. Beside him, Jamie reached out his hand to ward off the tide of Nightmares. 

No one was certain who touched the darkness first, but the moment one of them did, an explosion of golden light rocked through the darkness. 

Jack realized what had happened only after he felt the familiar sear of light on his skin. He opened his eyes to see the golden dream-sand drifting everywhere. He turned immediately to face Jamie and the boy beamed up at him despite the fact that the bright light must have played garishly on Jack’s twisted features.

“We did it!” Jamie cheered.

“We did,” Jack whispered.

Jack turned to face the three remaining Guardians and saw that belief and happiness was rejuvenating them. North stopped leaning on his sword and Tooth rose into the air, still holding Bunny tightly in her arms. The children cheered for them and their faces positively glowed. Jack smiled and then he felt the darkness inside him flicker. He turned in time to see Pitch plunged towards them with what remained of his Nightmare army. The Nightmare King was headed straight for them, murder in his eyes.

No!” Jack shouted, thinking only of Jamie and the children.

Immediately, Jack threw himself towards Pitch and his massive steed. The Nightmare plowed into Jack, but frost crackled between them every place Jack touched the beast. As the Nightmare ground to a frozen halt, Jack reached beyond it and laid his hands on Pitch. He dug his claws into Pitch’s thigh and poured ice into the wound.

“Get off!” Pitch shouted and lashed Jack across the face. 

His blue eye blurred with pain, blood, and sand, but the golden eye’s vision remained perfect. It tracked Pitch as he moved through the shadows. Jack grabbed his staff and flew after Pitch, streaking through the night like an arrow. Pitch didn’t exactly flee. He led Jack, baiting him, and Jack realized a moment later. 

With a shout, he turned sharply and raced back to where he had left the children. Jamie and his friends were backed into a close circle. Though North and Tooth were fighting nearby, they hadn’t restored enough belief to return the Guardians to their former glory. Bunny was still tiny and fluffy, more cute than threatening.

They needed Sandy!

Though his yellow eye, Jack looked at the endless golden sand that drifted around them without purpose. Darkness was weaving back through it, influenced fear and Pitch Black. Jack could still sense the light inside the sand, golden grains intertwining with the Nightmares.

North’s wise words echoed through Jack’s head, ‘Belief will get us out of this mess.’ Jack had seen what the lack of belief could do to the Guardians, crippling and aging them. What would happen if the belief returned? What about Sandy?

“Jamie!” Jack shouted over the dull roar of battle. “Jamie! You have to believe!”

“In what?” Jamie yelled back. 

“In the Sandman!” Jack dodged a Nightmare by centimeters. “Believe in Sandy! This is his dream-sand!”

“But he’s not here!” Jamie hollered with both hands cupped around his mouth. “I can’t see him!”

“You don’t need to see to believe,” Jack shouted. 

Then, a Nightmare smashed into him from the side. His vision went dark, he fell, and there was searing pain as the ground rushed up to meet him. Groaning, Jack clung to his staff and reached out for the wind. It lifted him gently and carried him back into the sky. Frost spread along the side of Jack’s aching face, numbing him to the pain. “Believe,” he whispered and extended his fear-sense into the very depths of the Nightmares. If he saw the glimmer of Sandy’s light, Jack wouldn’t hesitate to pull him out.

“Come on, guys!” Jamie shouted.

The Guardians were fighting Pitch rather than the Nightmares now. Though it wasn’t really a fair fight, Jack went to join them, freezing a few errant Nightmares in his path. He joined them, lashing out with lightning quickness. For the first time in ages, he trusted someone to watch his back and he didn’t think about the heat in his chest or the pain that still moved through him. Together, they backed Pitch Black into a corner from which there was no escape.

“Give up,” Jack said and lowered his staff threateningly. “There’s no place to hide.”

But there was always a place for the King of Shadows to hide. 

With a malicious laugh, Pitch dissolved into blackness. The Guardians turned slowly, scanning the brick façades of buildings and watching for the slightest movement. Jack breathed in the night and reached for the shadows, sensing them, but Pitch was angry and he moved too quickly. By the time Jack felt him, it was already too late.

The Nightmare King reared up out of the shadows with a giant black scythe. He swung down and Jack heard the blade whistle, cutting through the air. He wouldn’t survive the blow and the tendril of darkness in his chest lashed with excitement. Frost fanned everywhere, wild and beautiful.

Then, out of nowhere, a whip of golden sand closed around Pitch’s arm and jerked him backwards.

Shocked and elated, Jack raced after the beam of light. Jamie and his friends were standing in a circle, their hands joined tightly, and a spire of golden sand rose up at the center. Jack watched in amazement as the golden glow grew too bright for him to even look at. His eyes and skin burned, seared with the brilliance, and then it subsided just enough for Jack to open his eyes. 

Sandy leaned out of the dream-sand, his brows drawn together fiercely.

Fear spiked through the area, but Jack realized it was Pitch’s fear. His plan had failed.

Sandy shook his finger at Pitch and then delivered several quick blows that slammed the Nightmare King into unconsciousness. Pitch lay in the snow, butterflies drifting over his head. It was then that Sandy turned to the children and smiled brighter than the sun. 

Jack leaned on his staff to the side of everyone, a safe distance away in case something happened. He smiled absently at Sandy, wishing he could join the exuberant greetings and celebrations, but he wasn’t sure he was welcome. He was part Fearling, part of Pitch, after all. Then, surprisingly, the Sandman turned towards Jack and looked right at him. His bright eyes didn’t widen as he took in the sight of Jack’s stained skin, golden eye, and clawed hand. Instead, he created a top hat out of sand and tipped it in Jack’s direction.

Jack’s breath caught. Had Sandy known about his secret all along?

Sandy lifted his small hands and a wave of bright dream-sand came to him from all corners of the small town. He lifted himself gracefully into the sky and then spread his hands. All around them, the golden dream-sand took shape and form. The Nightmares changed back into Dreams. 

Jack felt the fear ebb away like a tide going out. He let out a breath of relief and watched for just a moment longer. Then, he let the wind lift him into the night and disappeared before anyone even realized he was there.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review! I'm dying to know what everyone thinks of this!


	4. October 15, 2012: Emotions

Yikes! I didn’t intend for all of the Guardians hemming and hawing to get so long either! (Go help Jack already, you morons!)

X X X

~October 15, 2012~

Six months had passed since the battle with Pitch Black. The world returned to normal with its usual inattention and continued to turn without a second glance for the horrors that had nearly occurred. The days still passed, the seasons still changed, the sun still shone during the day, and the moon still rose at night. The world remained the same, yet on the surface, everything had changed.

Whispers of the Nightmare King spread through the spirit world, traded like secrets and sins. A child and a winter sprite had defeated Pitch Black. Which winter spirit? Who? The Guardians of Childhood had also chosen a new member. Who had been chosen? Who was it? The other spirits chattered and crooned, confused and eager for more news, no matter how small or strange.

‘Jack Frost,’ someone said finally and the news spread like wildfire or floods. 

The other spirits had glimpsed Jack Frost over the centuries. He was a strange creature perpetually wrapped in a long cloak with his hood pulled up over his face. Sometimes, they saw him without his hood for just an instant and swapped stories that he was really a monster. He had one gold eye, claws, and blackened skin after all. No one had ever really spoken to him.

For a short time, North waited for Jack to return to the Pole. He thought that these rumors and tales would draw Jack out, make him return to correct them. At that time, North would officially make Jack a Guardian, but the frost child never came. The stories only spread. Then, just as the mark of six months passed and October was well under way, the rumors finally died out.

North tried to craft new toys for Christmas, but he always caught his eyes straying towards the window for the strange winter spirit that had helped them in their time of need and then disappeared like a bad dream banished by dawn’s light. Finally, he went to the Globe Room and sent out the Aurora lights.

It didn’t take long for the other Guardians to join him. They all looked as troubled as he felt. Tooth’s bright feathers were ruffled, Bunny’s bright eyes were ringed with shadows, and Sandy looked a little dimmer like a waning moon.

“We need to talk,” North began once everyone was seated around the table with mugs of hot cocoa. 

“About what, mate?” Bunny asked and cupped the warm mug between his paws.

Sandy conjured the image of a single ornate snowflake. ‘Jack Frost,’ he gestured.

North nodded slowly. “Yes, Jack Frost,” he agreed.

Tooth absently stirred her cocoa. “What about him?”

“Man in Moon chose him to be Guardian,” North said evenly. “And he did save the children from Pitch Black.”

“But then he left,” Bunny protested. “You can’t expect someone like that to be a Guardian.”

Tooth bit her lip and pushed away her cocoa. “How could we have expected Jack to stay?” she said softly. “We were cruel to him. We discovered his secret and immediately turned him out. We didn’t even give him a chance to explain.”

“But he's part Nightmare,” Bunny put in. “What were we supposed to do? Sit down over tea and have a light nosh while Pitch was tearing apart the world?”

“Anything would have been better than what we did,” Tooth murmured.

Sandy reached over and put a small hand on her shoulder. Then, he began to sign, ‘It’s true Jack is part Fearling, but it’s amazing that he managed to resist Pitch’s darkness. No one else has ever been able to stop the change.’

North’s hand clenched around his mug. How many years had it been since his battle with Pitch Black in Santoff Cluassen? North was still plagued by images of precious children falling prey to the Fearlings, devoured by the darkness and fear. What he wouldn’t give to have been able to save them, protect them, pull them back from that abyss. Yet somehow, Jack had been able to save himself. 

“What then?” Bunny asked. “Do you think he could teach us how to fight the Fearlings from the inside? Do you really think Pitch is just going to let Jack go? He owns Jack on the inside. Jack will never be one of us.”

“Bunny,” Tooth said sternly and tearfully. “How can you say that? I told you what Jack did for Baby Tooth. He gave up everything to save her and then the darkness tried to take him and he—”

“He managed to fight it off and came to help us,” Bunny finished. “I know, sheila, you have told me. But how do we know that wasn’t Pitch’s plan from the start? Maybe he just used Jack to get to us.”

North slid Bunny an insufferable look. “We have talked about this, old friend. If Jack was part of Pitch’s plan, then why did he still fail? Why did he allow himself to be dragged into darkness by his own Nightmares? If Jack was working with Pitch, surely he would have done something to help him.”

As before, Bunny still had no answer.

With the wisdom that came with his age, Sandy gestured slowly, ‘We need to find Jack,’ he signed. ‘No matter what happens, he was chosen by the Man in the Moon. He is a Guardian now.’

North nodded in agreement. “Yes,” he said. “Maybe we can talk to Jack and find out how he became like he is.”

Tooth nodded. “I’d like to know that,” she murmured. “My fairies and I can look for him. There isn’t much of the globe that we don’t see.”

‘I will search for him in Dreams,’ Sandy signed.

“Bunny, you should look for Jack in Burgess since you are—as you say—working with perishables and therefore have some free time on your hands,” North said.

Bunny wanted to object, voice a few more arguments against finding this Fearling-winter-sprite. As far as he was concerned, they had dodged a bullet. How could they ever trust someone like Jack Frost? He was a ticking time bomb, a grenade that would destroy them all when it finally went off and as claimed by Pitch, but North fixed him with his bright blue gaze. Bunny relented, “Sure, mate.”

North stroked his beard. “I will stay here. If Jack returns on his own, it will be to the Pole,” he said smoothly. “Check in occasionally if you learn anything.”

Sandy inclined his head, waved cheerfully, and then drifted away in search of Jack. Tooth followed him a moment later, her wings whirring with concern and nervousness. Bunny was the last to leave. He lingered for a long while, staring into his mug of cocoa as if that would make North change his mind. North did not relent and he was more patient than Bunny. After half an hour, Bunny left too.

…

His Nocturnal Magnificence, Sanderson Mansnoozie, Sandman the First, Lord High Protector of Sleep and Dreams (1) prided himself with being the oldest Guardian and often the wisest. He had assumed that he would be the first to locate Jack Frost. After all, he was the only Guardian to connect with every single child each night as he brought them sweet dreams. On the contrary to a few myths that occasionally were spread by parents, even spirits needed to sleep. Sandy figured it would take him a week to connect with Jack because even he had to sleep sooner or later.

Sandy drifted across the globe, high on his cloud of dream-sand, pleasantly content. He watched over the children and wove special dreams for Jamie Bennett. The boy really was remarkable. Even the Guardians were still having trouble accepting Jack Frost for what he was, but Jamie had done so within minutes. At night, he dreamed of Jack—of snowball fights, sledding, flying. The dream was as golden and perfect as one that Sandy could have handcrafted. 

The nights crawled by, endless with the turning of the earth, and yet Sandy could not find Jack’s dreams. He focused a little more as the week drew on. He sought out the things someone like Jack would dream about—acceptance and purity, laughter and mischief, children and belief, snowstorms and crystalline ice caves. Still, Sandy did not connect with Jack. Was it possible that Jack didn’t sleep? But no, everything needed sleep be they spirit or child or tree. 

Sandy gave himself a little more time. He waited, patient with the ages he possessed. He circled the globe, pausing only to wave greeting to Tooth’s tiny fairies as they hurried about each night. 

However, as the second deadline passed, Sandy began to worry. Jack was already infused with Pitch’s darkness and if what Baby Tooth had told them was anything to go by, constant resistance against the shard that lived inside his chest marked Jack’s survival. What if Jack had finally lost that struggle after so many long decades? What if he had finally been turned into a Fearling?

Worried beyond expressions, Sandy stretched his sand into the furthest reaches of the globe. Though he still sought out Jack, he was now searching for Pitch Black. It didn’t take him long to locate the Boogeyman. Pitch was crippled by the lack of fear in the world, tormented by his own doubts and fears, reduced to a mere husk of his former glory. He was sitting in his little sanctuary under the bed, cloaked in shadows, when Sandy floated in.

Pitch looked up sharply, but his eyes were slivers of light in the darkness. “Ah, Sandman, come to kick me while I’m down?”

Sandy waggled his finger warningly and signed, ‘I could, if that’s what you want.’

Pitch chuckled. “So merciful, just what I would expect from the Man in the Moon’s first Guardian. So, what brings you to my domain, diminished as it may be?”

Sandy raised the image of a snowflake. 

“Jack Frost?” Pitch asked with genuine curiosity. “What makes you think he’d be here?”

It was Sandy’s turn to be surprised. Though he did not believe, as Bunny did, that Jack had ever been working with Pitch Black, he had assumed that Pitch had wanted Jack for his side at the very least. Yet Pitch spoke Jack’s name almost disdainfully. His hands clenched into fists against his shadowy robe, knuckles like fine bones. Sandy let the silence stretch between them, encouraging Pitch to speak.

“If it wasn’t for him,” Pitch ground out, “I would have beaten you Guardians.”

Sandy let the barb pass. 

“He’s ruined everything,” Pitch said bitterly. “He should have joined me when he had the chance. Then, he wouldn’t be the… creature he is now.”

Sandy prodded Pitch silently. 

“You don’t know, do you?” Pitch asked softly. “You never knew about him. I found him about two hundred years ago, Easter Sunday, 1768, I believe. He was lonely—so deliciously break-takingly lonely—and he was so afraid. He was terrified that no one would ever see him. He thought he was being punished for something. I spoke to him, touched him, and he melted under my hand. I wanted him, Sandy. Oh, did I want him, but no one ever stays with the Nightmare King.” 

Pitch laughed self-deprecatingly and pushed a hand through his hair. “I wanted him to stay with me so I tried to make him into me. I fed him some of my Nightmares and he was so willing, but I’m not sure what happened. He felt the darkness and he panicked. He fought to escape and he somehow managed. The wind was helping him and he escaped me. I figured the darkness would change him into my Fearling anyway so I waited, but he never came. I assumed that he had died that night.”

“I didn’t know he had survived until that night I thought I killed you,” Pitch hissed at Sandy hatefully and then his voice softened. “I saw him. My darkness changed him, warped him, and he’s so beautiful now. I still wanted him. After you idiots turned on him, he fled to Antarctica. I felt his fear and followed it. We fought a little.” Here, Pitch shrugged as if the battle had been nothing more than a skirmish and not a fight that left a giant pillar of ice and Nightmares in the vast whiteness. “He denied me.”

“I still had one of Tooth’s fairies and decided to gamble. If he was canoodling around with you Guardians, I assumed his heart would be soft and it was. He gave me his staff in exchange for her, for the fairy that revealed his secret and hurt him. It didn’t take much to rile the fear inside him. He started to change, but he was still fighting and it was lovely,” Pitch shrugged, “But I had places to be and things to do. I left him to change into my Fearling alone. I don’t know how he managed to fight it off again.”

“When I saw him with you, I couldn’t believe it,” Pitch muttered. “I still don’t know how that boy managed to rekindle belief and revive you from the nightmare-sand. You were supposed to be dead and Jack was supposed to be mine!”

Sandy looked at Pitch for a long moment, head tilted curiously. 

Pitch wilted as the words left him. “Just leave me alone,” he said coldly. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

Still, Sandy lingered, a quiet glowing presence in Pitch’s labyrinthine darkness. 

Sighing, Pitch turned away from the light and stared at the wall.

For the longest time, Sandy remained with his polar opposite. Pitch’s haunting fears lifted slightly, just enough to allow him to breathe, and then Sandy turned to leave. Night was falling on Burgess and he wanted to be there when Jamie fell asleep to send him wonderful dreams. 

It was then that Pitch spoke. “Jack is…”

Sandy paused, listening. 

“He’s connected to my Nightmares, to my fears and shadows. He can feel them and sense them,” Pitch whispered towards the wall. “When I tried to change him, I only added to his beauty and his power. I made him… special.”

Sandy nodded slowly and left the chambers beneath the bed. Night was falling outside and he took a deep breath of the crisp night air. 

Sharply, Sandy felt a knife of fear move through a nearby golden dream. It warped, bent, twisted into a hideous nightmare. Then, almost as quickly as Sandy had felt it, the feeling exploded and passed. He turned, searching for the child that had been terribly torn from the shelter of dreams. All he glimpsed among the night was the flap of a cloak and a blur of white hair.

‘Jack!’ Sandy signed. 

The boy did not notice the golden man or maybe he did and chose to flee regardless. 

Shocked, Sandy stared after him. 

In the two weeks he had been searching for Jack, this was the first glimpse he had ever had of the boy’s dreams and they turned so quickly into nightmares. Usually, only adults with wounded minds dreamed like that. Jack must have insomnia, unable to sleep for the nightmares that constantly plagued him through his connection to Pitch. Sandy wondered when the last time the frost child had ever gotten a decent night’s sleep was. 

After that, he stopped trying to find Jack through dreams. He returned to the Pole and signed to North what he had learned so he could relay it to the others. Though the big Russian looked hurt and confounded by this news, he had nothing to share. Jack continued to elude them.

…

E. Aster Bunnymund couldn’t say he was exactly happy to be charged with searching for the troublesome winter spirit, Jack Frost. It wasn’t like he wanted Jack around or even on the same continent for that matter. As far as he was concerned, Jack could disappear and stay gone. 

Yet Bunny wasn’t such a blowhard that he couldn’t admit that he was already little biased against Jack before he had even met him. Easter Sunday, 1768, a terrible out-of-season blizzard had blanketed ninety percent of the globe. It had completely ruined Bunny’s only holiday. As a result, his belief had plummeted and his Warren had been filled to bursting with painted eggs that he couldn’t get rid of. He had to trek out through the snow to get to the North Pole and have North send out the Aurora lights to call the others. It had taken all of them to dig Bunny’s holiday out of the literal snow.

Though Bunny hadn’t learned that Jack was the cause of the blizzard until years later, he still held onto his grudge. Someday, maybe he would talk to Jack about it and chew him out in an attempt to get over his anger, but until then it was a great reason to dislike the winter sprite.

Learning that Jack was part Fearling did nothing to soothe Bunny’s old wound. Now, his mind was filled with scenarios in which Jack had frozen his holiday on purpose as part of Pitch’s dastardly plan. Though North swore up and down that this was unlikely, Bunny couldn’t help but believe it.

Grumbling, Bunny tapped his foot on the grassy ground of the Warren and bounded through the rabbit hole to the surface. Burgess was fantastically decorated for Halloween with countless carved jack-o-lanterns and rattling plastic skeletons hanging in the tall trees. The sight creeped Bunny out. He couldn’t imagine what sort of people wanted to be scared just for the fun of it. Someone like Jack would probably get a kick out of it, he thought with a growl.

Bunny made his way through Burgess, stopping along the way to talk to children as he neared the Bennett house. Jamie and Sophie were on the front porch, dressed to the nines in fantastic costumes. Much to Bunny’s horror, Jamie was wearing a long cloak and carried a hooked staff. Sophie, on the other hand, was dressed sweetly as a bunny complete with a cute cottontail.

“Hey, little ankle biters,” he called.

“Bunny!” Sophie shouted eagerly and rushed to him, giggling.

Jamie followed with no less eagerness, but a little more caution. He must have stepped on his cloak and fallen a few times. 

“What on earth are you dressed as?” Bunny asked the two children.

“Easter Bunny!” Sophie insisted. 

Jamie picked at his cloak. “Isn’t is obvious?”

Bunny bit back a remark about how Jack Frost should be a decoration instead of a fancy costume. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Jack lately, have you?” he asked.

Jamie’s brown eyes slid away. “He was just here, actually,” he said softly.

“Where did he go?” Bunny asked.

“He didn’t say,” Jamie said. “He felt you coming and just took off.” Then, in a manner that made Bunny feel lower than dirt, Jamie looked right at him and asked, “Why are you so mean to Jack?”

“He wrecked my holiday,” Bunny said defensively.

Jamie’s eyes widened. “Jack wouldn’t do that,” he protested. 

“He did,” Bunny said sternly. “I was before you were ever born. He covered the whole globe with three feet of snow on Easter Sunday.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to,” Jamie insisted. “Jack’s a nice person.”

Bunny pulled himself together and stopped arguing with the boy. “If you see him, tell him to come to the Pole. We need to talk to him,” Bunny said.

Jamie nodded. 

“By the way,” Bunny said pettily, “nice costume.”

Then, he opened a rabbit hole and bounded to the North Pole, intent on telling North exactly what he thought of this plan to locate Jack and bring him into their fold. It was stupid and probably dangerous. Jack had ruined Easter! It was only after that when Bunny learned the truth of Easter Sunday, 1768.

It was a few days after Sandy stopped by to explain everything he had learned from Pitch Black when Bunny exploded into North’s ice-carving office. “North!” he demanded. “We have to talk about this Jack thing. I am not on board, mate.”

North lifted his eyes from the carved rollercoaster of ice and looked as Bunny with profound sadness.

“What is it?” Bunny asked suddenly, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Sit, old friend,” North said softly. He didn’t offer cookies or cocoa and Bunny knew something was wrong.

“What happened? Just tell me.”

“Something you should know,” North said, “About Easter, ’68.”

Bunny’s heart skipped a beat. “What about it?”

“Sit,” North repeated.

Bunny sank down in the overstuffed chair across from North’s desk and peered at the big Russian through the ice. “What is it, mate?”

North explained slowly everything Sandy had learned from Pitch Black. He told Bunny about Jack’s vulnerability, his meeting with Pitch that fateful day, the attack that nearly destroyed him from the inside, and the struggle that Jack still went through every day. It had all started on Easter Sunday, 1768.

“Then…” Bunny whispered.

North nodded slowly. “I believe that the blizzard was merely Jack’s powers overreacting as he desperately tried to protect himself. Either that or it happened while he was being attacked and he lost his control over winter. Either way…”

“Oh moon,” Bunny breathed out. 

“This also means that Jack was never working with Pitch. He’s been fighting against Pitch from the beginning, more so than we ever have,” North continued softly.

Stunned quiet stretched between the old friends for a long time as each considered the implications of this new knowledge. Bunny slumped in his seat, shoulders heavy and tight as the anger was pulled from him like water rushing from a broken vase. North finally rose from his desk, fetched two mugs of hot cocoa, and dumped brandy into them. He and Bunny sat together for a long time, listening to the fire crackle warmly in the grate. Even so, it did nothing to banish the chill that had settled in Bunny’s chest.

…

Nicholas St. North always believed that nothing was without solution. (It was a favorite pastime of the other Guardians to wait until he’d had just a little too much eggnog before challenging him with impossible feats. North would always accept and often succeed even when something seemed unfeasible.) So he didn’t expect it to be so impossible to locate Jack Frost, but as the months stretched on, even he began to lose faith. 

North walked through his workshop, approving and declining certain toys or lists. The yetis and elves moved out of his way, noticing how distracted he was. No one bothered him as he walked to the library and pulled out a large tome that had been given to him by his very first believer, Katherine. (2) Within the pages, she had written and illustrated all manner of heroic tales and short stories. North sat down in his favorite armchair and spread the book lovingly across his lap. 

Though he was too tired to read now, he was comforted by its presence and the meaning it held. Like him, Katherine believed anything was possible. She used her stories to rewrite the past and change the future in ways North never could. North ran his fingers lightly along the gilded pages and sighed softly. 

If only he could rewrite history…

He would love to go back to ’68 and change Jack’s fate. He wished more than anything that he could be able to prevent Jack from ever meeting Pitch Black. What would Jack look like if his face and body hadn’t been twisted by the Nightmare inside his chest? Would he smile more? Would he be happier? Would he be here right now?

Better yet, North wished he could go back to the night of Jack’s birth and bring the lonely child into his arms. How wonderful would it be to have Jack as a faithful ally instead of a flighty loner? The Man in the Moon had seen something so special in Jack, but no one else had ever spared him a glance. It was so unfair and cruel. 

Jack was a perpetual child, forever frozen at barely the age of fourteen. The Guardians should have protected him. They should have found him, helped him, and sheltered him. Maybe if they had, things wouldn’t have happened in quite the same way. Maybe Jack would still be whole and unblemished, happy and smiling, but the past could not be changed so easily. It left indelible scars on the present and future.

With a heavy sigh, North slid Katherine’s tome back onto the shelf and moved to the window. 

Beyond the glass, the North Pole stretched out as an endless blanket of white ringed with dark snow-dusted woods. Wolves howled in the distance and the wind danced with loose snowflakes. Ferns of frost curled along the edges of the window. It was so beautiful that it looked like something out of a dream. Jack Frost had been making winter this beautiful for centuries and no one had even noticed.

North turned his eyes to the moon and said softly, “Old friend… why would you choose Jack?”

The moon hung silent, crescent smile painted along its arc.

“Was it because of his connection to Pitch? Because of the darkness inside him? Or was there more to this?” North continued. “I know you usually choose Guardians based on something special they have inside, but what is special about Jack?”

North couldn’t bring himself to believe that the Man in the Moon had created Jack only to let him suffer, be changed by Pitch, and then help the Guardians. The moon was not cruel or unseeing. He must have had some purpose in the things he did. 

“Why did you not tell me about Jack?” North murmured. “Why did you not say that he was alone and in pain? I would have gone to help him.”

The wind whispered against the pane, doubtful and wary, and North recalled how Sandy had mentioned the wind was always with Jack. They were friends and there was something heartbreaking about Jack’s only friend being the unspeaking wind.

“I would have,” North insisted to no one. “Jack is good child. I wish to help him, but he will not come back. Will he ever return?”

No one answered North. 

The moon and the wind remained silent, speaking in a language only they could understand.

With a heavy sigh, North left the library and walked back to his personal workshop. It was comfortably cluttered with tools and toys spread everywhere. Half-finished projects covered the workbench, but he swept them aside and laid out a slew of blue and white paints. It took him most of the week to carve and paint the stunning nesting dolls. Completed, he set the wooden creation on the shelf beside his own. Though he hadn’t accomplished anything by creating the matryoshka, he felt better. 

…

Toothiana was torn by her desire to find Jack and her wish that he would disappear like a bad dream. 

On the one hand, interacting with him had reminded her of precious things she had almost forgotten. Her love for children was renewed and she went out in the field every night to collect at least a few teeth. When she did, she always lingered just a little too long, watching over the children as they dreamed. She thought of how gentle Jack had been with Jamie, holding him close, protecting him, and watching over all the children even though none could see or believe in him.

On the other hand, being with Jack had reminded her of all the dark human parts of her that she would rather have forgotten. She didn’t think she would have the strength that he did if she was turned into a monster by her enemy, hiding from children and other spirits, perpetually alone. What if he became a Guardian? She couldn’t stand to look at him and see his distorted face, see his hideously sharp teeth when he chanced a smile, and that wasn’t fair to him. 

In her attempts to convince Tooth, Baby Tooth spoke of him often enough. Jack was sweet and kind, tender beyond all words. He had nearly given himself up just to save her and she had revealed his secret in the worst possible way. When they flew to find the Last Light and save the Guardians, Jack had kept Baby Tooth tucked under his hood so she wouldn’t get cold. Jack was someone worth knowing, worth saving, worth befriending. 

But Tooth didn’t know if she had the strength for that. 

Her tiny fairies brought her news of Jack whenever they saw him in the vast world. He was always with children, near them, like the shadow he was. He sat on their rooftops even when the summer was surely too warm for him. He comforted them through hot nights with cool breezes. He chased away Nightmares and fears, he banished monsters, he tormented bullies, he frightened spiders. Invisible, he did everything he could to protect them with his nightmarish hands. 

Then, Jamie Bennett lost another tooth in a freak sledding accident in the middle of October and it had Jack’s name written all over. Tooth went alone to collect Jamie’s tooth, her heart pounding a racing beat inside her chest. She slipped through the window, knowing it was too early for him to be asleep. Sure enough, Jamie was sitting up at his desk with his homework spread all around him. There was frost slowly melting on his floorboards.

“Was Jack here?” Tooth asked softly. 

Jamie didn’t turn to look at her. “Yeah,” he said. “He was helping me with my math homework.”

“Why did he go?” she asked.

Jamie shrugged, even though he knew.

“I’ve come to collect your tooth,” she said shyly.

Jamie nodded and said, “It’s on the nightstand.”

Tooth picked up the tooth and put a few quarters in its place. Her hands shook as she worked.

Jamie kept his back to her, working hard on his homework. 

“Can I help you?” Tooth asked gently. “I’m good with numbers.”

Jamie hesitated and glanced out the window at the darkening night beyond. Jack hadn’t been out there when Tooth arrived, but she also hadn’t been actively looking for him. Was he waiting out there for her to leave so he could rejoin Jamie? Was she preventing him from being with the only child—no, the only person—who accepted him for what he was?

“Are you afraid of Jack, Jamie?” she asked instead.

“No,” Jamie said without hesitation. “Why would I be?”

Tooth bit back the words to explain that Jack was connected to the Boogeyman on a very special level. She had heard everything about Jack’s change from North and Sandy. As horrible as it was, she was almost more afraid of him now that she knew his existence was a constant struggle against the Nightmare in his chest. What if Jack lost control and the Nightmare escaped to devour him? What if he changed in the presence of a child? What if he hurt them as a Fearling?

“No reason,” she forced herself to say.

“Jack’s not a bad person,” Jamie continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “He’s not dangerous. He told me…” The boy hesitated and chewed the end of his pencil, “He told me about the Nightmare inside him.”

Tooth’s breath caught in her lungs. “What? Why?”

“I wanted him to visit me and he told me he couldn’t. When I asked why, he told me the truth. He told me everything.”

“The truth? Everything?”

Jamie nodded. “He told me about the shard of darkness in his heart, how it always threatens to overwhelm him. He wanted me to know before I decided whether I wanted him around. He said something could go wrong and he could hurt me, but I don’t think that,” he murmured. “Jack’s been fighting that darkness for two-hundred-and-forty-four years and he’s been alone that whole time. He deserves to have a friend. He’d do anything to help me. He’s been helping me with my homework.”

Tears welled in Tooth’s eyes. “Really?”

Jamie turned to look at her fully. “I don’t get it,” he said. “You’re an adult right. You’re supposed to know better, aren’t you?”

“Adults can be…”

“Stupid?”

A snowball slammed harshly into the window, rattling the pane.

“Sorry,” Jamie said softly.

Tooth rushed to the window and looked out, but she couldn’t see Jack in the darkness. When she called his name, he didn’t answer or reveal himself. The night remained still and deep.

“He won’t come out,” Jamie told her.

“Why not?” Tooth asked.

Jamie just looked at her, his eyes knowing and resolved. “Why do you think?”

Tooth’s throat flashed as she swallowed. “Will you tell Jack that I want to see him?”

“I’ve told him that before,” Jamie said. “I’m sure you guys are just doing your jobs, but leave him alone.”

“Jack is… supposed to join us,” Tooth told Jamie gently. “He’s supposed to be a Guardian.”

A little sliver of delight flashed across Jamie’s face. “Really?”

She nodded.

“I’ll tell him,” Jamie said happily. 

“Thanks,” Tooth murmured and slipped back out through the window. The crisp October night refreshed her and dried her tears, but she lingered outside Jamie’s window for a long moment. Though she saw movement among the shadows, Jack did not reveal himself—if he was even nearby. Finally, Tooth flew back to her palace with Jamie’s tooth cradled in her velvet bag at her side. 

…

Yet, despite all their searches and all the times they talked to Jamie Bennett, Jack Frost never returned to the North Pole. Winter remained beautiful, whispers and glimpses of him continued, and a few more children began to believe. Tooth’s fairies saw him often, but he was always gone too fast to follow with tiny iridescent wings. Though Sandy sometimes felt his crippling nightmares, they always cut off too sharply for Sandy to send sweet dreams. For a full year, Jack eluded them.

X X X

(1) This is actually Sandy’s full title given to him by the Man in the Moon.

(2) Katherine is a character found only in the book series. She’s a young girl who writes down all the stories of the Guardians and is implied to be Mother Goose.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	5. May 27, 2013: Center

Writing this has made me really think about my phobias and you know what… I am afraid of the stupidest things. I am downright terrified of things that are submerged underwater. (And spiders! But what sane person isn’t afraid of spiders?)

X X X

~May 27, 2013~

Little more than a year had passed since the conflict with Pitch Black. Jack Frost had disappeared right afterwards, though it was not as if he had vanished completely. None of the Guardians had been able to see him for more than an instant or talk to him at all. They knew he was alive and still fighting against the thread of darkness inside him, but that was all. He was an enigma to everyone except Jamie Bennett and it was starting to seem like it would be that way forever. 

Then, with the suddenness of a natural disaster, Jack Frost returned.

The night was dark and deep, abnormally warm for the Pole. North was sitting in front of the fire, his aching feet propped on the ottoman with Katherine’s book in his lap. He was reading her favorite tales, the ones about the Snow Goddess whose tears turned into snow. (1) He tried not to let himself think about Jack Frost, the child he had failed and continued to fail. He was just about to close the book and call it a night when the wind arrived like a poltergeist. 

Wailing, it tore at the shingles, rattled the doors and windows, and beat against the entire workshop. Snowflakes stung against the windows, pattering like little clawed fingers that sought to get in. The wind howled, raging against every barricade and wall. The elves milled nervously and one of the yetis spoke with concern.

North remained seated for a long moment, puzzled by this odd weather. The wind was behaving almost like a person that wanted inside. It rattled, it tapped, it chipped all with human-like qualities of desire and urgency. It was strange, but the seasons had been abnormal in the past year.

“Must be global warming,” North said evenly. 

He gazed down at the book in his lap. It was open to the illustration of the Snow Goddess, Shirahime, the white princess. She was a beautiful fair creature with flowing dark hair and pale eyes. She wore a white kimono embroidered with snowflakes at the hems, sleeves, and shoulders. The obi around her waist was colored lightly and North could imagine it a shade of palest blue. Her expression was sad and distant, speaking of the loneliness that only winter knew.

Then, with a jolt, North remembered that the wind was Jack Frost’s only friend. He leaped to his feet and rushed to the front door, tripping over himself in his haste. He tried to throw it open, but it was stuck fast. North heaved with all his might, shoving the door open against a deep snowdrift that had accumulated outside. The wind gusted hard in his face for a moment, blinding him with stinging flakes, and then abruptly stopped. It whispered now.

North saw the blood first, blooming like red roses against the white pallet of the wintery landscape, and his heart stopped.

“Jack!” he called frantically despite not knowing if the winter sprite was even here. This could be the blood of an animal for all he knew, but the wind was still murmuring with the quintessence of a person. It pressed against North’s back, urging him through the frigid snow in stocking feet. “Jack!”

Guided by the wind, North stumbled through the arctic, shouting when he caught his breath. A short distance from the glowing lights of the workshop, Jack Frost lay in a snowdrift with a slow puddle of red spreading around him. North rushed through the snow and dropped to his knees. For a moment, he hesitated, uncertain of how to help the winter child. Would it be better to leave him here in the snow or bring him into the warm workshop?

The wind howled and Jack let out a little whimper of pain. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and the shadows on his skin shifted.

North decided he’d figure that out later. The most important thing right now was getting Jack medical attention. He was bleeding badly, but it was hard to tell if his skin was bruised or just blackened by the darkness inside him. North scooped the cold boy up in his arms, carried him quickly back to the workshop, and kicked the door closed behind him. He immediately started shouting for the yetis, calling for supplies and bandages as he carried Jack to the infirmary.

He laid the boy out on the bed and bent over him with concern. He tugged off Jack’s oversized cloak and laid it aside. Jack was still clutching his staff, but North didn’t try to take it from him. He knew Jack’s power and will were all the held the shard of darkness back and he didn’t want to risk loosening any of the walls that contained it. Instead, he gently cut away Jack’s sweater and pulled it open in search of the wound that was bleeding so badly. 

Beneath a thick layer of frost that covered his skin like armor, Jack’s chest swirled with tendrils of darkness that moved and writhed with life of their own. For a moment, the sight shocked North and he could hardly breathe. Then, warm blood dripped over the edge of the bed and he forced himself to focus on something besides Jack’s twisted body. The wound was on the boy’s back—a jagged gash that split him from shoulder to hip. North could see ribs and spine, but spirits could survive much more than mortals could. 

The yetis brought in bandages, thread, a needle, and water. With practiced effectiveness from his days as a brigand, North threaded the needle and began to stitch Jack up. Once the wound closed, it would probably freeze if the little bursts of frost that spread across Jack’s skin were anything to go by. His body was trying to mend itself, but the damage was extensive. How had this happened? In silence, North finished repairing Jack’s back and stepped away. The frost curled weakly, but couldn’t seal the wound. Blood seeped between the stitches. 

North took a glass of water and dripped it deliberately across Jack’s back. The moment it connected with his skin, the water froze better than any bandage. Gently, North rolled Jack onto his side and circled to check the rest of the boy’s body. Though bruised and scraped in places, Jack had no other serious injuries. North let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. 

Relieved beyond words, North bent down to study Jack’s half-frozen and shadowed chest a little closer. It was the first time he was able to study the darkness that had changed Jack. With clinical efficiency, he took in the sight of Jack’s clawed hand and feet, his darkened skin, and ice-coated chest. It looked like Jack was keeping the shadow under control by… freezing it?

Eagerly, North grabbed some paper and began scribbling notes and sketches down. Maybe he could use this information to prevent others from being turned into Fearlings. Maybe he could even find a way to reverse the effects. 

For the next half an hour, North was so involved in his notes that he didn’t notice the moment Jack roused. The boy’s mismatched eyes flickered open, took in the sight of the room, and then narrowed. His cloak was draped over a nearby chair, his shirt was cut down the middle, and though he still had his staff and therefore wasn’t in any danger, his secret was laid painfully bare. North was still sketching and writing, his eyes bright with wonder as he worked.

“Get a nice eyeful?” Jack said coldly.

North jolted and the pencil flew from his hand, rolling across the floorboards. “You are awake. I was just—”

“Writing down sordid details for your nasty little stories?” Jack hissed. He forced himself into a sitting position and clutched painfully at his chest, gasping hard.

North scrambled to his feet, picked up the heavy cloak, and tried to hand it to Jack.

The frost child slapped his tattooed hand away with something akin to a snarl. Taken aback, North stared at the boy for a long moment. Jack’s lips curled uncontrollably over his sharp teeth and the boy quickly pressed his hand to his face. He visibly willed the muscles back under control and smoothed down his skin as if he was pulling wrinkles from fabric.

Once Jack lowered his hand from his twitching skin, North asked, “What happened to you?”

“I was attacked,” Jack snapped and pulled his cloak around his naked shoulders. “Some spring spirit thought someone like me, a monster who’s part Fearling, would be better off dead. He tried to kill me. I wonder where he learned that information, North, considering you Guardians and Pitch are the only ones who know what I am.”

North stared at Jack, stricken. “We never let anyone find out about your secret—”

“Maybe someone just figured it out,” Jack said sarcastically. “It’s not like you ever did anything to dispute the claims that I’m a monster, even though I helped you.”

“Jack,” North began. 

“Stop,” Jack said bitterly. “It’s not like you can say anything to change what—”

“Do you want cocoa?” North interrupted.

For a few heartbeats, Jack just stared at North. His hard expression wavered, surprised by North’s sudden question. North could practically see the frost child imagining the mug of cocoa with marshmallows that he had only seen through windows and he knew he had succeeded. With a deep sigh and a wince, Jack pressed a hand to his chest and nodded.

“Dingle!” North boomed.

There was a riot of jingling in the hallway and a single elf stumbled into the room, pointing at himself proudly. Jack couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. He had never really seen an elf before and they were almost exactly as he pictured. 

“Fetch some cocoa—extra marshmallows!” North called, “and bring some cookies.”

The little elf jingled away, grinning his stupid elf grin.

A long moment of silence spread between the two spirits. Jack had eased himself into a comfortable position on the bloodstained bed with a pillow against his back and had one hand pressed to his chest as he peered backwards over his shoulder at the wound on his back. With a soft breath, he swathed himself thoroughly inside his cloak, hiding away.

“You know,” North began slowly now that Jack looked less inclined to fight or flee, “we’ve been looking for you.”

“I heard,” Jack said without looking at him. He wound a stray string from his cloak around his clawed finger. “How did I get here?”

“I think the wind brought you,” North explained and tried to continue his original topic, “If you heard about our search, why did you not come to Pole?”

“Why should I?” Jack asked and eyed North’s scattered notes with such detailed drawing of his warped body. “So I can be your experiment or something?”

North glanced at the papers and gathered them up, embarrassed by how eagerly he had written about the crippled frost child. “I did not take notes for experiments, Jack. Other people have been turned into Fearlings, did you know that?”

Jack didn’t answer, but the downturn of his mismatched eyes was enough. He nibbled his lip softly, sharp teeth peeking out.

“You are the first to ever manage to fight off the Fearling’s darkness. Do you not think that is something useful?”

Jack clenched his clawed hand in disgust. “Do you want to make others like me? This connection to the darkness isn’t a gift, it’s a curse.”

North shook his head. “If I could learn from you, I might find cure. Tell me, did you freeze the darkness inside your chest?”

Jack glanced between the halves of his cloak at the band of white skin curled with shadows and coated with frost. “I thought so at first, but… I don’t really know,” he confessed. Then, he peered up at North through his pale lashes and was about to speak when Dingle returned noisily.

North mentally cursed the elf’s horrible timing, but he couldn’t hold onto his anger for long. Jack was completely delighted by the warm mug of cocoa loaded with marshmallows, his lips curving into a close-mouthed smile. A few other elves carried in a tray of cookies and set it down on top the many medical supplies with a clatter. A roll of gauze tumbled across the floor and Jack stopped it gingerly with his toes before he noticed North’s gaze and drew his thin legs inside his cloak. 

“Cookie?” North offered.

Bashfully, Jack accepted a tree-shaped treat from the large tray and nibbled it delicately. His eyes fluttered with delight and he sipped the cocoa with equal pleasure. North had never seen anyone take so much joy from food. It was as if the boy had never tasted anything before. 

“You like?” he asked gently.

Jack nodded happily.

“Have another.”

Jack picked another cookie and ate this one just as slowly, treasuring every morsel.

“Jack,” North began after a moment. “Man in Moon chose you as Guardian so you must have something very special inside.”

“The darkness,” Jack said coldly and without hesitation. 

North shook his head. “No, I do not think so. Man in Moon would not choose you for just that. There must be something else. What is your Center, Jack Frost?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said warily and glanced at North. The big Russian’s blue eyes were soft and patient. Deciding that North wasn’t playing with him, Jack sipped the cocoa quietly for a moment and then asked softly, “What’s yours?”

Smiling softly, North called for his elves again and asked them to bring him the pair of nesting dolls from his workshop. A moment later, a cacophony of ringing bells announced the elves’ return. Each carried a piece of the doll and North pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off an incoming headache. He collected the pieces and shooed them out. It took him a moment to put the matryoshka of Jack back together. Then, he handed the remaining pieces to Jack and let him put together the nesting doll of North.

“This is how you see me, no?” North asked once Jack had the whole thing together and could look at each piece individually. “Very big and intimidating, but this is not all I am. I am also…” Here, North gestured for Jack to begin taking apart the painted figures.

Jack opened the largest and stared at the next for a moment without speaking. Finally, he murmured questioningly, “You are downright jolly?”

“But not just jolly,” North said gently as Jack opened the next doll. “I am also mysterious and fearless and caring… and at my Center…”

Jack rolled the centermost and final doll into his palm. “There’s a tiny wooden baby?”

“Look closer,” North whispered and handed Jack another cookie. 

Jack’s claws pricked into it, shedding crumbs, but he hardly noticed. His mismatched eyes were fixed on the tiny painted figure as if it would reveal some secret to him, tell him a tale, teach him something wonderful. “I-I don’t know,” Jack murmured. “I guess… you have big blue eyes.”

“Yes!” North exclaimed and gripped Jack’s narrow shoulder very gently in his big hand.

Jack’s eyes moved along his ‘Naughty’ tattoo and up to his face, curious and timid.

“Big eyes, very big, because they are full of wonder,” North continued. “That is my Center.”

A tiny smile pulled at Jack’s lips and his eyes brightened. He was falling into North’s words, believing them desperately with all his heart. He wanted to believe that there was something inside him other than Pitch Black’s strand of darkness and three centuries of loneliness. 

“It is what I was born with,” North told Jack tenderly. His face animated with happiness and his free hand moved to encompass the messy workshop. “I have always seen the wonder in everything. I have seen lights in the trees and magic in the air. This wonder is what I put into the world and it is what I protect in children.”

Jack looked up at him with an openness that North had never seen before. He wasn’t hiding anything. 

“It is what makes me a Guardian,” North said kindly. “It is my Center.”

North took the tiny doll from Jack and pieced the matryoshka of himself back together. Then, he handed Jack the one he had made so many months ago to occupy his time and guilty mind. Jack opened it slowly, like the petals of a flower unfurling. He gazed at each piece for a long while, trying to decide what North thought of him. The first image was hooded and cloaked, face hidden and staff held tightly.

“You are mysterious, Jack Frost,” North said after the silence became too much and watched Jack open the first doll to reveal the image of Jack flying into battle with frost sparkling along his shepherd’s crook. “But you are also very brave.”

Jack opened one of the innermost figures and stared at the image of himself with a downturned face and a sad frown. “Do I seem like this to you?” he whispered.

North squeezed his shoulder gently. “You look lonely, Jack. Are you not lonely?”

Jack nodded hesitantly. 

“You are also devoted,” North continued as Jack opened the penultimate doll. “You came back, even though you had been hurt and you owed us nothing, to restore the Last Light’s belief. You did it for the children that you love.”

Jack did not protest as he stared at the image of himself hugging two children tightly against his body. One might have been Jamie with his tousled brown hair and pajamas. For a long moment, he was quiet, tracing the shape of the doll with the tips of his fingers. “Why,” he began, “Why didn’t you paint me how I really look?”

North looked at the blue-clothed figure on the matryoshka. He had left Jack’s mismatched eyes as they were, but he had glossed over the darkened skin and clawed right hand. He rolled his shoulders lightly and said gently, “What you look like is not what you are. You of all people understand that.”

Jack’s throat flashed as he swallowed. He opened the final doll to reveal the core and stared at the small wooden figure. It was completely blank. For a moment, his hope shattered. For all North’s pretty words, did he believe that Jack had nothing inside him? Jack looked up sharply and saw that North was still smiling softly. There was no cruelty in his blue eyes, only kindness and sorrow.

“Wonder is my Center… What is yours?” North asked gently.

Jack stared at the blank wooden figure meant to be the core of his nesting doll. “I don’t know,” he whispered.

With a soft nod, North folded Jack’s pale fingers over the blank figure. “When you find out, let me know and I will paint the last piece.”

Jack smiled then, really smiled, just a small parting of his lips that revealed the tips of his sharp teeth. “Thank you,” he whispered.

North poured more cocoa into Jack’s mug and watched him fold his long-fingered hands gratefully around it. “You can stay the night here, if you wish,” he offered.

Jack’s eyes widened and his thin shoulders tightened. “You would… let me stay the night even though I’m…?”

North nodded before Jack could finish. “I have wanted you to be here for a long time, Jack,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry,” Jack murmured and looked down into his mug.

“Is no matter,” North said as he offered the tray of cookies to Jack. Jack declined and North gave the tray to the elves. “I have many spare rooms and you are welcome to whichever you prefer. Open window if you like and make yourself at home.”

As North reached the threshold of the workshop, Jack called out to him, “Are you going to call the other Guardians?”

Though North had been planning to, something in Jack’s voice stopped him. “I will not, if that is what you wish,” he said softly.

“Please,” Jack whispered, “don’t.”

“Why not?” North asked, genuinely curious.

Jack wet his lips, tongue probing into a small split at the corner of his mouth. “Because… I’m sure Bunny’s learned by now… about Easter ’68. I’m sure he knows I did it and he’s… he’s probably mad,” Jack murmured and his eyes slid across the floorboards. “I don’t want him to hurt me.”

A little shard of North’s heart broke. He walked back to where Jack sat on the bed and reached to touch his thin shoulder gently. 

Jack shied away. 

“He won’t be angry,” North promised. “We’ve learned a lot about you, Jack Frost. Bunny could never blame you for that blizzard, not after we learned how it came to happen.”

Jack’s throat flashed as he swallowed. “How did you find out?”

“Sandy talked to Pitch Black,” North said.

Jack shuddered and pressed a hand to his chest. 

“Bunny won’t be angry,” North continued. “No one is angry with you. We want to help you and be friends. We want you to become Guardian and help us.”

Jack glanced up into North’s face and bit his lower lip gingerly. “Really?” he asked.

North nodded.

Then, with childlike innocence and just a thread of nervousness, Jack murmured, “While we wait for them, will you… will you show me your workshop?”

North had to stop himself from sweeping the frost child up in his arms and hugging him fiercely. Instead, he smiled down at Jack and nodded happily. “Of course,” he said. “I will be happy to give you extra-special tour.”

Jack rose to his feet, bare clawed toes curling against the hardwood, and followed North from the infirmary. 

North showed him the Globe Room, now lit brightly with the belief of happy children, and turned the switch to send out the Aurora lights. Jack watched them through the skylight with wonder and timidity, but he followed North through the rest of the workshop, undisguised awe on his pale face. The yetis were busily building and painting, the elves were testing everything, and North paused to scrutinize a pink princess castle. Unlike when Jack had seen the Easter Bunny’s Warren, the sight of North’s inner sanctum did not disappoint Jack. 

…

Little under an hour later, the other Guardians began to arrive. 

Sandy arrived first, drifting in on a golden cloud. He waited for several minutes, selecting cookies from the large tray North had put out, before approaching Jack. He signed slowly, giving the boy plenty of time to understand, ‘Welcome, Jack.’

Shyly, Jack smiled. “Hi… Sandy…”

The little man’s eyes softened as he took in Jack’s timidity, the bruises on his face, and his split lip. ‘Are you alright?’ he gestured.

Jack nodded, frost curling over his injuries slowly. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m glad you’re okay, Sandy.”

For a moment, Sandy looked puzzled, but then he realized that Jack hadn’t seen him since the night of their battle with Pitch Black. Sandy had been deceased for the discovery of Jack’s secret and everything that happened afterwards up until the point Jamie or Jack managed to revive him from the nightmare-sand. ‘Thank you,’ Sandy signed and reached to gingerly lay his small hand on Jack.

North opened his mouth, prepared to warn Sandy not to touch the frost child and risk the boy withdrawing further. Surprisingly, Jack did not shy from Sandy’s touch. He remained still, looking up at the Dreamweaver with bright eyes as Sandy gently ruffled his white hair. The gold of Jack’s eye shone, sparkled, with Sandy’s closeness.

Before North could say anything about the strange reaction between the darkness in Jack and the light in Sandy, Tooth arrived with several of her tiny fairies. Baby Tooth was with her and immediately rushed to Jack before Tooth could say anything. The tiny fairy flew around Jack’s head, chirping and twittering happily. A smile pulled at Jack’s lips and he lifted a hand for her to perch on. As if to tell Tooth, ‘I told you so,’ Baby Tooth turned to her mother and twittered irritably.

Tooth flushed with shame and something else. “Hello Jack,” she said softly. “I’m glad you’re finally here.”

Jack shifted away from her, fingers curled around his staff lightly. “Sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he murmured. “I saw your fairies in the sky a lot.”

“They like you,” Tooth said before she could stop herself.

Baby Tooth twittered in agreement.

Jack’s skin warmed with this knowledge. He turned to Baby Tooth and whispered with disbelief, “Really?”

Baby Tooth nodded and chirped. 

Before Tooth could say anything else, Bunny arrived through a hole in the floor near the fireplace. He shivered as he hopped out and the hole closed up, leaving a flame-bright tulip growing out of the middle of the floorboards.

North waved his arms and said fiercely to Bunny, “How many times must I ask you not to open holes in the middle of workshop? It does not do for flowers to grow out of floor.”

“Don’t have a canary,” Bunny said grouchily. “You called me in the middle of the night and the flower will go away in a few hours.”

“That is not point!” North exclaimed.

It was then that Bunny spotted Jack, standing in the middle of the room with his dark cloak pulled around his naked shoulders. The boy looked like he had been through hell, more so than usual. His single blue eye sparkling in the light and the golden one glowed with unearthly light. His pale skin was peppered with its usual darkness, but also spotted with bruises and scrapes. His lip was split and there was a lot of blood soaked into the dark material of his cloak. Bunny had no doubt that Jack had finally come to them not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice.

“What happened, mate?” Bunny asked gently.

Jack pulled back deeper into the shelter of his cloak. “Just a little scuffle,” he said.

“Was not little scuffle,” North interrupted. “Other spirit attacked Jack.”

Tooth sucked in a sharp breath. “What? Why?”

Pausing often to glance at Jack, North explained how another spirit had decided Jack was a monster who was better off dead. After being certain that none of the Guardians had spilled Jack’s secret, he turned to Jack and said gently, “It will be safer for you if you stay, if you would like to stay.”

Jack glanced from one face to the other, nibbling his knuckle nervously. “But,” he began, “I’m a…”

‘You’re not a monster,’ Sandy signed. ‘You are nothing like Pitch.’

Tooth wet her lips and nodded. “Jack, I want to get to know you, like my girls,” she said softly. 

Jack turned to Bunny and his eyes were like shards. “But, what about… Easter?” Jack whispered. “I’ve… I’ve ruined it twice.”

Bunny took a deep breath to steady his nerves. How long had he been waiting for this moment, this time when he could tell Jack that he could never hold those moments against the poor spirit boy? Finally, the time had come and he could finally smooth a balm over the old scars. 

“I could never blame you for that, Snowflake. In ’68, you were just trying to escape Pitch. I should have tried to help you, but I never knew what happened,” Bunny said gently. He paused and took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever answer was to come when he finished. “In ’12, that wasn’t your fault, was it? You never would have just stood back and watched Pitch destroy hope, would you?”

Jack shook his head with an eagerness that was crippling. He was desperate to explain, to be understood, to be forgiven. “I felt all the Nightmares and I tried to come back to help, but the shard in my chest,” he closed his hand over his heart, “it reacted. I couldn’t take control back from it and by the time I did, it was already too late.”

Bunny nodded in understanding. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one in the wrong, mate, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jack breathed out. His lips curled into a small smile. “I would have done the same thing, if it had happened to me.”

Bunny stared at the boy before him, this winter child who had been hurt and crippled beyond repair by the cruelest force in the world. There would be a time when Bunny would tell Jack about the rest of the Pookas and how Pitch had destroyed his family, but now was not that time. Unable to hold himself back any longer, Bunny reached out and drew Jack gently into his arms. For a moment, Jack was as hard and cold as an ice sculpture in his embrace and Bunny almost let go with an apology. 

Then, in a moment as slow as a flower opening, Jack wrapped his arms around Bunny’s back. His entire small slender body trembled as he buried his face into Bunny’s thick warm fur. His fingers clutched and clung, his breath shuddered, and though Bunny could feel the shadow lurking inside Jack’s chest, he did not let go. He held the winter sprite tightly, embracing him in the first hug of Jack’s long lifetime. He never wanted to let go. He wanted to hold on until everything broken was mended.

Slowly, Sandy approached and laid his hand on the top of Jack’s head. Bunny felt Sandy’s soft touch go through Jack like a current. Then, Baby Tooth flew over and settled against Jack’s cold cheek, clinging to strands of his hair with her small hands. Though North and Tooth did not join the embrace, this was enough. It was a long time before Bunny let Jack go and when he looked into Jack’s face, he thought maybe the darkness was a little less so, but that might have just been his imagination.

…

Seven months passed quickly for Jack Frost. Though he had been yet unwilling to accept Guardianship, the others didn’t pressure him. North gave Jack a room of his own in the workshop, Bunny told Jack he was welcome to visit the Warren so long as he didn’t freeze any of the delicate spring plants, Sandy brought Jack into the starry sky and taught him what he could about the dream-sand, and Tooth accepted Jack into her busy palace like another one of her tiny fairies. Sometimes, she even sent him out on tooth runs even if he always took far too long by spending time with the slumbering child.

Things could have been better for Jack Frost—like if the shard of darkness in his chest suddenly turned golden and washed away the damage to his body, but that wasn’t going to happen. He was happy. He finally had people he could call his friends. The number of children who believed in him despite his appearance increased every day. He had stopped hiding so much even if bright light did still prickle along his sensitive skin. Though he kept his one golden eye open for Pitch Black and his Nightmares, there was had been no sign of the Boogeyman since that fateful Easter.

It was the day after Christmas. 

At North’s bidding, Jack had covered the globe in pristine snow the day before so that the Christmas would be white. Today, he and North had slept in, exhausted from their activities the day before, but Jack woke to the smell of cookies and fruitcakes. This wouldn’t be such a strange thing if not for all the commotion coming from the floor below. 

With a yawn, Jack scraped himself out of bed and shrugged into his cloak more out of habit than actual desire to be covered. He flew quietly from his room—his room, sometimes he still couldn’t believe it—and drifted downstairs. A search of the kitchen, the Globe Room, and North’s personal workshop revealed nothing. Jack continued his search, following his nose and ears until he came into a large living room that was barely used. All the commotion was coming from inside and Jack gingerly opened the door, peering inside. 

Shockingly, the dusty room had been cleaned from floor to ceiling and decorated like the houses Jack had peeked into. It glowed with endless tinsel lights and a massive evergreen stood in the middle of the room. Brightly-wrapped boxes were crammed under the tree, cookies and cocoa were spread across the coffee table, and there was a fire roaring in the hearth. A single daisy sprouted out of the middle of the floor and Jack could hear the whir of tiny wings. 

For a moment, Jack just stared through the small opening, uncertain whether he should go inside or go back to bed. Was he welcome here?

“Are you going to come in?” came North’s voice.

“Or just stand out there like a gumby?” Bunny asked.

The door abruptly opened and Jack tumbled inwards, surprised. Sandy stared down at him, smiling brightly, and extended his hand to pull Jack to his feet. Tooth flew over immediately and swathed Jack in feathered arms that were beginning to feel just as comfortable as his worn cloak.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked once she had released him.

“What is going on?” North repeated incredulously. “Is party!”

Jack stared at him, dumbfounded. 

Tooth steered Jack away from North gently as the big Russian began to dance in an uproar. “He’s had a little too much eggnog. The stress of Christmas and all,” she explained to Jack. “Since North is obviously so busy on Christmas, we thought we’d have a party the day after instead.”

“A party?” Jack repeated. 

She nodded. “To hang out and exchange gifts and such.”

“Gifts?” Jack repeated.

“Is there an echo in here?” Bunny asked and bounded over to Jack. He steered the frost child aside from Tooth and pushed him towards the tree. “Go ahead and open them already.”

“These are… all for me?” Jack breathed out.

Sandy floated over and patted Jack lightly on the top of the head, smiling broadly. Slowly, Jack turned to look at each of the Guardians and found the same expression on each of their faces. They were smiling at him as if they were making up for lost time.

Trembling slightly, Jack knelt down before the bright tree and carefully began to unwrap each present with awe. North had given him a new cloak of fine light material embroidered with silvery snowflakes. Sandy presented Jack with a vial of shimmering dream-sand that he promised could block Pitch’s influence and give Jack peaceful nights’ sleep. From his bandolier, Bunny produced a few wooden carvings of things from the Golden Age, creatures and objects Jack had never seen before. Tooth and her little fairies showered Jack with gifts of blue-green feathers, herbal and floral teas, small jewels, and a tiny potted bonsai.

“I know it’s not much,” Tooth began softly, “but my girls and I aren’t really ones for material possessions.”

Jack looked up from the treasures and smiled broadly, showing all his sharp teeth as he had more and more lately. “No, I love them,” he said eagerly and held the feathers in his cupped hands. “I can put them on my staff. Thanks!” He got to his feet and drifted through the room, embracing each of the Guardians in turn. When he finished, he blushed shyly at his own emotion and tucked his fingers against his mouth as he always did when he was nervous. “Thank you,” he said softly. 

Bunny patted Jack on the shoulder and smiled at him with his green eyes bright.

“Have you… considered it?” North ventured after they had all sat down and eaten plenty of cookies. “Today is as good a day as any.”

Jack wet his lips and nibbled his knuckle. “I don’t know,” he murmured.

“You can become Guardian,” North said gently. “You already are. This is just to make it official.” 

“But… I don’t know what my Center is yet,” Jack protested.

“You’ll find out,” Tooth said and tilted her head to listen to Baby Tooth. “She’s right. I didn’t know my Center when I became a Guardian. It actually took me a while to figure out that I was guarding memories. Not everyone has it as easy as Sandy or North.”

Sandy did a little palms-up. He had been bringing good dreams to children for eons and he couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else.

“But,” Jack protested and twisted his hands around his mug of cocoa. Frost spread across the crockery, but it was so warm in the room that no one but Bunny felt the chill. He glanced at Jack, took in the sight of the boy’s hunched shoulders, and knew there was something more to this than met the eye.

“Mate,” Bunny interrupted gently. “Can I have a word?”

Jack nodded, looking almost grateful for the change in subject. He got to his feet and followed Bunny into the hall. As soon as the door closed behind them and the lively chatter resumed, Bunny fixed Jack in place with his grass-green gaze. 

“There’s something you’re not telling us,” Bunny said as gently as he could. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Jack’s breath rattled in his lungs. He examined Bunny, visibly debating whether or not to speak. 

“You can tell me,” Bunny said. “I won’t be angry or anything, scout’s honor.”

With a heavy sigh, Jack pushed his clawed hand through his hair. “I just… I mean…”

Bunny sat back patiently, leaning against the wall.

“You guys are all being so nice to me just so I become a Guardian, right?” Jack whispered finally.

Bunny’s eyes widened. “What? No.”

“As soon as I become one of you, you’ll just stop all the parties and get-togethers. I’ll be alone again,” Jack murmured and closed his eyes to inhale deeply. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. The darkness in me… It’s been weaker since I’ve been with you and I’ve been fighting it for so long—”

“Snowflake,” Bunny interrupted softly. “I know we failed you and you have no reason to trust us, but… you have to give us a chance to fix all this. Moon knows we left you alone for too long, far too long, but we’re not faking anything here. It’s true we never used to be this close, but you changed that.”

“How could I change anything?” Jack whispered and his mismatched eyes slid to the floorboards.

Bunny’s whiskers drooped. He reached out and gently tucked his claws beneath Jack’s chin. Though the boy flinched slightly, he did not pull away. “You, Jack Frost, are an amazing spirit,” Bunny said honestly. “Not only have you managed to fight off Pitch’s darkness for centuries, but you protected the Last Light even when you didn’t have to. I’m proud to see you as my friend and my fellow Guardian.”

Jack pressed his lips together, trying not to smile with delight. 

“Smile,” Bunny said. “It’s something to be proud of. Not just anyone can be a Guardian. You have to have something—”

“Special inside,” Jack finished quietly. “North told me, but I… I don’t know what it is.”

“You’ll find out,” Bunny said and squeezed Jack’s thin shoulder gently. “I know you will, mate.”

“Thank you,” Jack whispered.

“Now,” Bunny said with a grin. “What do you say we rejoin the party and you stop dallying and make it official already?”

Jack nodded slowly, his lips curving into a smile that showed only the tips of his sharp teeth. “Okay,” he agreed finally.

“That’s it.” Bunny ruffled his hair and opened the door.

Jack entered, holding up his head, and told everyone that he was ready to be a Guardian. North wasted no time in breaking out the giant book embossed with a golden ‘G’ and swearing Jack in. Even though his words were slightly slurred, it was perfect. Bunny hung back and just watched as a sort of change came over Jack. He straightened, he pushed his cloak back, and he lifted his chin. Jack positively glowed with pride and happiness. 

Sandy leaned over and raised a single question mark. 

Bunny hugged the little golden man close and said, “All is well.”

…

It was nearly a full month, sometime near the end of January, before Jack Frost discovered his Center. It was a normal winter day, but since winter was drawing to a close, Jack was lavishing all his attention on Burgess, Jamie Bennett, and his friends. They were Jack’s first believers after all and it was understandable how attached Jack would be to them. He brought them a fantastic snow day and spent the entire day playing with them, helping them build snow forts, and embellishing any story they wanted to hear.

It was only as night was falling and Sandy arrived to bring sweet dreams to the exhausted children that Jack realized. He was sitting atop a telephone pole, looking at the sky and trying to convince himself he wasn’t waiting for the Dreamweaver to arrive. When Sandy’s glow appeared against the cobalt night, Jack flew over as if he had been shot from a cannon. 

“Hey Sandy,” Jack greeted enthusiastically.

Sandy waved and extended his cloud of dream-sand so that Jack could land gingerly beside him. Though Jack was still wary of the golden sand since he was able to see the darkness of nightmares through his yellow eye, he trusted Sandy to keep it under control. The spire in his chest was quiet, as it had been over the past months.

Sandy raised several images of Jack playing with the children. ‘Have fun today?’

“Of course,” Jack said with a grin. “I’m always having fun.”

Sandy smiled at the boy and nodded in agreement. ‘As Bunny would say,’ he signed, ‘Makes you feel all warm and tingly, don’t it?’

Jack chuckled and nodded. “It sure does.”

‘That’s how I feel when I bring children dreams,’ Sandy gestured and spread his hands to encompass the entire night sky. 

“Your Center feels like that?” Jack asked.

Sandy nodded and then a little light lit deep in his eyes. An exclamation mark appeared over his head. 

“Do you think my Center could be… fun?” Jack breathed out.

Sandy nodded vigorously, giving Jack two thumbs up.

“I have to tell North! And Bunny! And Tooth!” Jack said eagerly. He flipped backwards off Sandy’s golden cloud and swooped through the night like a dragon. His laughter floated back to Sandy on the wind, carried there like a precious child. 

Sandy smiled to himself and looked up at the full moon, glowing peacefully overhead. ‘Did you know this would happen, MiM?’ Sandy signed.

Though the moon did not answer, Sandy felt its rays like a physical touch. He turned back to his work and sent dreams of a scarred spirit boy finally finding everything he had ever wanted—a home, a family, believers, and a life that he could enjoy—to the children of the world. With this dream, he attached the name Jack Frost. 

Jack felt the rush of belief go through his body as a wave of warmth and smiled with gratitude. 

Then, he pressed his hand over the shard of darkness that still lived inside his chest and ran his fingers over the darkened patches of skin at his wrists. Though his golden eye could see tendrils of fear floating through the night and he could still feel the fears of children deep in his chest like a throbbing drum, these were things he had grown to accept. The darkness would always be inside him, but darkness existed in everything. It was part of life, just like fear.

_“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”  
—Nelson Mandela_

X X X

(1) Shirahime-Syo or the Snow Goddess Tales is one of my favorite little short graphic novels. It’s written by CLAMP and you should all check it out if you have the time.

First, drop me a **REVIEW** and let me know what you think. The final chapter is the most important one for reviews!

Second, I own nothing except my original plotline and my original characters, which aren’t incredibly original here since this was a Kink meme fill for ‘Part Fearling Jack.’ Original prompt: http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/3036.html?thread=6175708#cmt6175708

Third, there will be NO SEQUEL! So don’t even ask!

Fourth, please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! **The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger.** (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

Questions, comments, concerns?

So, I bid you adieu. 

**REVIEW!**


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